


Getting Back on the Bike

by Honeypop



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeypop/pseuds/Honeypop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her horrible experience with the Fae, Sookie is feeling low, but then a certain Viking wanders into Merlotte's. She's determined to get back on the bike she loves to ride so much. Filling the blanks between DAG and DITF because I was always curious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to me. Yep, they're all mine. Not really, they belong to Charlaine Harris.
> 
> This fic was kindly beta'd by Stacey AKA RubySun03, and is sponsored by Cheeseman's Cheeky Cheese Crackers, the cheesiest cheekiest cracker in the East Midlands. Mmm, love that great cheeky cheese taste!

Sometimes, being Sookie Stackhouse really sucked. 

I'd suffered a lot of personal tragedy, and had to grow up being ostracized, feared, and worse, pitied, due to my disability. I'd survived a heap of physical battering; I'd been beaten, choked, shot, had my back torn up by a maenad, I'd almost been burned alive in my own home, I'd even been staked. But those hours I'd spent at the hands, and teeth, of Lochlan and Neave, well, that'd been a whole other ball game. That was when I'd truly learned what it was to be scared for your life. I can't even begin to explain the level of fear I'd experienced during those long couple of hours.

The physical healing wasn't so bad. Thanks to a couple of visits to Dr. Ludwig, and a good dose of thousand year old vampire blood, the holes and gaping wounds in my skin healed up quicker than I ever thought possible. Sure, I knew I'd carry a few scars, but they'd just sit right along with the other ones. I was too thankful to be alive to care about that.

The mental healing took a lot longer.

I would jump out of my skin at sudden noises. If Amelia left the house and I was alone, I would lock all the windows and doors, and recheck them twice. I had to keep reminding myself that my attackers were dead, and they couldn't hurt me again. 

Sleeping was difficult. During my waking hours, I tried to keep busy and think of normal, pleasant things, anything but that horrible night. But in my sleep I had less control over where my mind wandered. It took me to some dark places. The terror, the desperation, the feeling of complete and utter helplessness, every horrific moment was recalled just as it had happened. My skin would crawl as I felt their disgusting hands on my skin. Even worse, I relived the cold slicing of their blades, the sharp piercing points of their teeth. I remembered how I had lost all hope, how I had accepted that I would die a nasty, bloody death at the hands of those evil creatures. I had truly been broken. It was taking me a while to repair the damage. 

Eric would visit, and stay with me when he could. He was the only one I would allow myself to break down in front of, although it hurt me to do so. I knew my tears only brought more anger and pain to him, and if I hadn't have been at rock bottom, I would have tried to retain more pride and dignity. We hardly spoke of anything other than the practicalities of my healing. There was much that went unsaid, during that time. Neither of us seemed to want to talk about it. Mostly, I would just cling onto him, and he would quietly soothe me. I was grateful for that.

We engaged in nothing remotely resembling sex. I even had this crazy (and frankly terrifying) idea that I might never be able to engage in sex ever again. Eric didn't push me. Even without the physical aspect, somehow we grew closer, during that silent time of painful tears and rage. At the same time there was a gaping hole in our relationship, a sort of raw wound which I couldn't quite locate to try to heal it. I was glad Eric was there to soothe and comfort me, but I was also angry at him. A part of me resented him for not being there when I called for him, in my most desperate need. I didn't ask him why he hadn't been there to save me, perhaps because I didn't want to know the answer.

Emotionally, I was a bit of a mess, to put it mildly.

It took a while for me to dream of anything good, or even something bizarre and surreal but sort of funny, like that dream I had once where Arlene turned into a giant French fried pickle and chased me through town shouting _'don't run from me, I am the pickle of dooooom, fear my pickle wraaaaath'_ and then squeezed ketchup in my face. 

But then one night it happened. I had a breakthrough. I dreamt of something other than psycho fairies.

It'd been a couple of days since I'd seen Eric. I'd fallen asleep with him on my mind. Not as you might think, though. I was thinking, _'Next time Eric comes around I could ask him to move some of that firewood onto the porch, and he could get me that old shelf out of the attic because I'm running out of space to keep my books in the living room. In fact, he could put it up while he's here'_. Hardly erotic fantasies, right? Just the ordinary kind of thing you think about when you have a boyfriend who can move heavy objects effortlessly and at lightning fast speed.

And so I slid off into sleep, Eric on my mind, hammer in his hand, fixing some brackets.

Admittedly, it started off as an evil fairy dream, where Eric completely ignored me while I was screaming at him for help, because he was too busy with DIY. But eventually he appeared, and all the fear simply faded away, and suddenly we were dancing together. We weren't alone, but the people around us were nonthreatening, faceless and completely unimportant. He was holding me close, his nose nuzzling in my hair, his fingers softly brushing mine as he held our linked hands to his chest, his other hand on my lower back.

We swayed in time to some random tune, and I sighed with contentment. I felt calm and cherished.

“I can give you everything you desire,” Eric whispered at my ear. “Everything you need. If you would only let go and allow yourself to love me.”

“Submit to you, you mean,” I smiled, my cheek against his chest. 

“No.” We stopped swaying, and he placed a finger beneath my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his. “I mean love.”

He leaned down to kiss me. His kiss was soft and sweet, his lips barely brushing mine. Then he spun me into a twirl, before pulling me back to him, so that my back was flush with his body. He brushed my hair aside and leaned down to press a delicate kiss below my ear.

A shiver ran through me.

“You still... want me,” I said, my voice trembling.

“Always,” Eric replied.

“After everything... I'm... damaged.”

“No. Never believe you are less than you once were. You are more. You are everything.”

He held me close, and I brought my palm up to his cheek to stroke his face, and closed my eyes. I sighed deeply.

There was a lot more dancing, some kissing, maybe a little butt squeezing, but mostly I just felt content and safe and... I don't know, needed, or something. Vital. Hopeful.

When I woke up, I had that happy, fuzzy feeling that you get after enjoying such an excellent dream. Okay, it hadn't been some hot fantasy about me and Eric screwing our way around my house, but I thought of my romantic dream as a step in the right direction. My libido would surely soon get back with the program. I didn't over-analyze the content, I was just happy to be dreaming about something good again. It was such an improvement on waking up screaming after having nightmares about terrifying creatures with pointy teeth.

The whole day I had an extra spring in my step. Maybe, just maybe, the next time Eric came around, I'd feel my hormones jumping up and down and the tingling through my body to the tips of my fingers and toes, and he'd make love to me and it would be just as it had been before. I would be more like myself again. Eric would be Eric; sexy, relentless, incomparable Eric. There would be no tears, no nightmares, no welling anger or frustration. Things would be easy and natural and effortless.

Maybe.

When I got to work I was brought back to reality. There'd been a football game on, and the bar was busy with people celebrating a fine victory for the Bon Temps Hawks. Lots of patrons were wearing black and red, the school colors. The two priests, Father Riordan and Father Littrell, were sitting in my section, as were Andy and Halleigh. Everyone seemed to be in fine spirits that night, and I was constantly having to rush from table to table to keep up with refills and orders. By 7:30, my feet were aching, and my wrists were burning.

I'd just gone to the bar to collect an order for a bunch of young guys from the Norcross plant, and was thinking I'd have to check on the priests to see whether they'd finished eating, when I felt a firm hand at my waist. I immediately jumped and turned, ready to whack whoever thought it was okay to touch the waitresses without their prior consent around the head with my tray, when I caught a glimpse of a familiar smirk.

“Oh.”

His grip tightened on me slightly, and his other big hand snaked around and brushed down my arm.

“Hello, lover.”

I hadn't even felt his presence, such was my level of distraction.

“Eric! What're you-”

Before I could finish my sentence he'd taken my hand in his and had twirled me around. He span me a couple of times, and just as I started to stumble dizzily and had begun giggling hysterically, he dipped me, one hand holding me behind my head, the other at the base of my back, supporting my body. And then he kissed me.

At first I was shocked by the swift movement, and might have even shrieked a little. Then I panicked because I was at work and we were right in the middle of a busy bar, and everyone was going to see us. His fingers tangled in my hair, making a mess of my perfectly straight ponytail, and I worried about that too. And then I felt a familiar tingle. My previously rigid body relaxed, knowing he had an easy grip on me and my weight. Eric would not let me fall.

Now, a kiss from Eric Northman was always like an epic event. That vamp could do things with his lips that other people never even imagined was possible. He'd had a long, long time to practice his technique, and for me, it was a thousand years well spent. I'd had many an opportunity to reap the benefits, and always enjoyed myself immensely, even when we'd been kissing in the most awkward and inappropriate of situations. But this particular kiss, well, it was something else. 

He kissed me as though he hadn't seen me in months. I felt the fiery passion behind it, and I could feel his hunger in the way his mouth worked against mine. I parted my lips slightly, and that was all the invitation he needed. Once his tongue was brushing against mine, I felt a kind of wild abandonment overtake me. My hand reached up automatically, and I held on to the back of his neck, desperate to keep him where he was. 

I'm pretty sure nobody would have heard the frankly embarrassing moaning sounds I was making. Or maybe they did. I was just too busy to care.

In my peripheral consciousness I knew there were a few whistles, some coughs, and a whole heap of various thoughts from the Merlotte's patrons in reaction to what they were witnessing (ranging from disgusted to most definitely turned on). But mostly I was focused on the task at hand, which was returning Eric's kiss, and enjoying the incredible and very pleasurable sensations which were flooding my body. Certain parts of me were relaxed to the point of being wobbly, other parts were most definitely wide awake and paying a lot of attention to this interesting turn of events.

I don't know how long we were at it. It could have been seconds, it might have been minutes. But it was the best time I'd had in a long time.

When he pulled his lips away there was a satisfying smacking noise, and my own lips tingled. I took in some quick, deep breaths, and found it difficult to fully open my eyes. When I finally did manage to focus them, I saw Eric staring down at me, his own eyes wide and bright, sparkling with excitement.

I tried to pull myself back into the reality of the situation.

“Eric.”

His name came out as a sort of breathy whisper.

“Yes, Sookie.”

“I... oh.” I swallowed hard. “Let me up. I have to get this beer to table six.”

I saw confusion, or perhaps it was astonishment, flash across his face, before he pulled me up back into a standing position. The blood rushed to my head, and when I looked around the bar, it made its way directly to my cheeks. I wasn't usually a blusher, given the years I'd spent reading peoples most innermost, private thoughts, but right in that moment I guessed I was looking redder than my favorite cranberry-colored coat.

Sam placed a pitcher and two glasses on my tray. He put his hand on his hip and leaned against the bar nonchalantly, and I heard him think ' _you done now?_ '

I gave him a quick guilty look, before scurrying off with the drinks to my waiting table. I couldn't even look at the guys I was serving. I about flung the tray behind the bar on my way back, and strode quickly into the ladies restroom.

Once I was alone, I braced myself against the sink, closed my eyes and took a moment to breathe. Then, slowly, a grin crept its way across my face. I looked in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh at what I saw. My ponytail was hanging limply on one side of my head, and there were strands of hair sticking out all over the place. Somehow one side of my t-shirt had been pulled out of my pants, and I quickly tucked it back in. I readjusted my apron and did the best I could with my hair, and when I finally felt like my pulse had settled to a more reasonable pace, I took a few extra deep breaths. I stood as straight as I could, reinforced my mental shields, and made my way back out to the bar.

There were a few glances cast in my direction, but thanks to the walls I'd erected, I was able to walk past a number of patrons without feeling too much embarrassment. In fact, truth was, I felt pretty darn good.

Eric was sitting at a table in my section, right in the middle of the bar, and I wandered over as casually as possible. His hair was down and all ruffled; he was wearing his post-make-out hair proudly, not bothering to set himself straight as I had. As always, he commanded the attention of everyone around him, while at the same time they tried their best to look as though they weren't checking him out or shaking in their boots. It was natural for them to be curious; after all, people like Eric didn't hang out in Bon Temps on a regular basis. A human version of Eric would have made people stare, given his size and gorgeousness, but the fact he was also a vampire, of course, this just increased the level of interest. 

He was looking around the place like he was judging everyone and everything in it, right down to the beermats, and didn't think too positively about what he saw. He caught the eye of Father Riordan, who was sitting at the next table over, and I watched as he fixed him with a deadly stare. The priest crossed himself and began mouthing some quiet prayer, and Eric flashed him a fangy smile.

He could be such an asshole.

There were a few gasps when the fangs came out. Maybe some people hadn't realized what he was. Eric was never one to hide his nature, to pretend to be something he wasn't. I often wondered how he'd managed to keep it a secret all those years before the Great Revelation. It must have been a chore. If anyone loved being a vampire, reveled in it, then it was Eric. And Pam, of course. Vamp pride, she called it.

He was dressed all in black today; black jeans and heavy boots, and a black tank top under a black shirt and black leather jacket. It looked more like his work attire than his off-duty clothes, and I wondered if he'd decided to drop into Merlotte's before he headed to Fangtasia for the evening. I sighed, and hoped he'd stay at least long enough for a drink.

I stopped at his table, pulled my notepad out of my apron pocket and readied my pen. I watched as an elderly couple quickly got up and left, knocking over a chair on their way out.

“Fangs,” I whispered quietly.

Eric looked up at me, smiling mischievously, and retracted them.

“Better?”

“Thank you. What can I get you this evening, Sir?”

“Well,” Eric said, slowly leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “That depends. Do you want the explicit, dirty, adult version of the answer to that question, or the dull, uninteresting version?”

I steadied myself.

“B Positive?”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Do you have AB negative?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“O positive?”

“Maybe, I'd have to check.”

Eric leaned back again, and the joints of the old wooden chair creaked. 

“I will have O positive, served in a cocktail glass with a straw and one of those small plastic monkeys.”

“Um...”

“You do have plastic cocktail monkeys here, don't you?”

“I don't think-”

Eric sighed dramatically, and scanned the room again.

“I will take it however it comes.”

I scribbled something on my pad that actually read something more like _'O pos monkey comes'_ and turned on my heel. Andy Bellefleur caught my eye on my way to the bar, and I stopped by to see what he wanted.

“I'll take another beer, Sookie, when you're ready.” 

He made sure to give me a serious look that communicated how displeased he was that I had just made a show of kissing a vampire in the middle of Merlotte's. If it had been illegal to make out with vampires in public and he had the power to arrest me for such a heinous crime, I'm pretty sure he might've got his handcuffs out, right at that moment.

Eric might have had a few things to say about it, though. I actually got a kick out of imagining their exchange.

“Halleigh?”

“I'll have a ginger ale, please Sookie.”

Halleigh smiled at me. I think we shared what might be called a girly moment. Without poking around inside her head I knew that even the quiet, reserved women like Halleigh had all kinds of romantic fantasies. She and I both knew that Andy was never going to take her in his arms, dip her, and kiss her face off in public. Hell, he might not even do that kind of thing in private, all I knew.

“I'll bring them right over,” I said, removing their empties.

Behind the bar, I knelt down to the refrigerator to check on the blood situation. Without even realizing it, I began to massage at my wrist.

“You okay?” Sam asked, as he pulled some beer.

“Oh, I'm fine. I'm just a bit achy.”

Sam knew about some of what had happened with the Fae War. I'd not spoken with him about it in much detail myself, and he hadn't asked a lot of questions, but he had probably heard all kinds of things on the Shifter grapevine. Supes are real gossips.

“Does Eric want blood? Should be a few bottles in there.”

I knew that Sam was wondering what Eric was doing here, and also that he was a little annoyed about the scene he'd just witnessed. I decided not to enter into a conversation about why Eric might greet me in such an amorous way, with my boss. I'd been just as shocked as everyone else in the bar, and after all, it wasn't my fault. Sam could take his beef up with Eric.

I pulled out a bottle of O positive TrueBlood, and stood up.

“Do we have any plastic monkeys?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Another beer and a ginger ale for table eight.”

I shook the bottle and unscrewed the cap, before going over and sticking it in the microwave to heat up. I prepared a martini glass, and poured Halleigh's ginger ale, then retrieved and poured Eric's warmed blood. I added a small straw and a yellow umbrella. Then I carried the drinks on my tray, and stopped off at Andy's first.

“Beer. Ginger ale.”

I smiled my weird, slightly scary waitress smile at them. Andy looked decidedly annoyed at being served his drinks from the same tray as one which had a martini glass full of blood on it, and I kept my beaming smile firmly in place. It wasn't like he was a great tipper anyway.

“Thanks, Sookie,” Halleigh said.

“You're welcome.”

I trotted off to Eric's table, and placed a napkin down before setting the drink in front of him.

“How'll that do ya?” I asked.

Eric picked up the glass daintily by the stem, removed the umbrella, sniffed his drink, and took a sip through the straw. He fixed me with a stare as he pursed his lips and sucked. After downing about half the blood, he licked his lips and gave a nod.

“Delicious.”

I smiled at him, and tucked the tray under my arm. I reached forward to smooth out his hair a little, I couldn't help myself. 

“So, did you come out all this way to have me serve you microwaved synthetic blood substitute, or is there some other reason you came to Merlotte's tonight?”

As I tucked a strand of golden hair behind his ear, he turned his head to the side to kiss my wrist. He looked into my eyes, and we shared a moment. I pulled my arm back, and fidgeted awkwardly with my apron string.

“You do prepare a wonderful blood substitute,” Eric said. “An excellent temperature, expertly poured.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But yes, I did have other motives for visiting.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see a customer doing the familiar 'meerkat' maneuver, attempting to catch my attention.

“Oh yeah?”

I nodded at Mr. Meerkat to indicate I'd be over in a moment. I noticed that the empties were collecting around the pool table. I still hadn't cleared the priests' plates, though they'd got up and left not long ago. I was beginning to feel a pain in my lower back, and shifted my weight onto my other foot.

“Yes,” Eric said. “I wanted to kiss you.”

I immediately tore my gaze away from my tables and looked down at him. 

“Oh.” Who wouldn't respond to a line like that? He came out all this way to kiss me. Smooth. And most probably bullshit. “Well, that's... nice. You definitely managed a good job of it. But I guess you don't need me to tell you how awesome your skills are in the lips department.”

“I also wanted to ask you something.”

“Uh-huh.” _Here it comes_ , I thought. I found myself curious, though. Even if it was work - mind-reading or whatever – I was kind of excited to be needed again. To be doing something useful, more positive than itching my healing wounds and crying all over his shirts, would surely improve my spirits and take my mind off other things. Jenny, who was the waitress taking over my shift that evening, chose that precise moment to rush in and brush past me on the way around the back.

“Hey Sookie, sorry I'm late. Hey Sam! I'll be right out.”

“Okay.” 

I looked back at Eric, still interested in what he had to say, but also working out in my head how many tables I needed to see to before I finished for the night. 

“Ask away.”

“I was going to ask if you would like me to give you a private lap dance out in the parking lot after work.”


	2. Chapter 2

"What?"

Everyone turned to look as they heard me shriek. I heard one of the patrons think _'That crazy, freaky bitch better shut up'_ , and someone else thought _'Oh shit, sonofabitch is gonna eat her!'_

Eric's shoulders moved up and down as he laughed to himself.

"A small joke, my lover, but I certainly managed to get your attention, didn't I? Actually, I wanted to invite you to my house this evening."

Well, color me shocked, I hadn't been expecting that one either, and I about dropped my tray. Eric had invited me to his home once before, but he'd seemed somehow obliged then, and I hadn't been asked since. I'd made some offhand comment about only blondes being allowed, which Eric didn't seem to find amusing in the least, and after that I thought I was never going to see his house, inside or out.

"Sookie?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes," he said. That one short word was filled with more promise than I'd heard in a long time.

"Why?"

As soon as the question escaped my mouth, I knew it was a stupid thing to say. I should have been gracious and pleased, or at least attempted to respond a little more politely. I put my lack of manners down to my tiredness.

"Why?" Eric raised an eyebrow at me. "Are we not lovers, you and I? Are we not blood bonded, and betrothed? Do I have to have a reason? I believe it is time you visited my home."

I thought about maybe bringing up the fact that he'd dragged his feet in asking me again, but such a conversation would really need to take place in private, if I was ever going to enter into that particular one. I was already uncomfortable about the prospect of anyone nearby hearing our conversation. Plus I was still thinking about clearing up. Talking could wait.

"Sure," I said with an involuntary sigh I hoped he wouldn't take much notice of. "Let me finish up here, I'll go home and get cleaned up, then we'll go."

Eric looked at me with a face that was half-irritated, half-concerned. If I was to make an estimated guess, it was tipped in favor of irritated.

"We can do this another night."

"No," I said immediately, touching his arm. "No, I want to. I mean, I'd really like to."

"Did you want the erotic dancing?" Eric said seriously. "Are you disappointed because I said I was joking?"

"Shh," I said, waving a hand and looking around. "It's not that, I just-"

"Because I will do it, if that is what you really want."

"Eric, I don't want you to lap dance for me," I whispered. Wait, what was I even saying? Maybe I really was crazy. "Going to your house sounds great. I don't mean to seem grouchy, I've just had a busy shift, that's all. I wasn't prepared for any excitement this evening. A change of scenery would do me good, and it'd be great to spend a little time with you."

Eric looked at me for a moment. Then, seemingly happy with my response, he knocked back the rest of his blood, and fished in his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out some bills, put them on the table, and stood.

"I will wait outside."

He pressed his lips to my forehead, gave Sam a quick nod, and quietly made his exit. In my distraction and exhaustion, I dropped my shields, and caught a number of thoughts basically musing about how incredible Eric's booty was. Watching him leave, with that sexy swagger in his step, I remembered just why it was my favorite part.

_What. An. Ass._

"Incredible," Jenny said beside me, looking in the same direction I was.

"Oh, you should see it bare."

"What?"

I shook myself out of my cute butt-induced trance.

"Um, what?"

"That guy, he's on my vampire hottie calendar. You know him?"

Damn. So she _had_ seen his bare ass. Well, only side on, and she'd never had her hands on it. I tried to console myself with that fact, before I turned and made quick work of cleaning up. Then I did my handover, grabbed my purse, said goodbye to Sam, and was right out the door.

Eric's bright red, shiny Corvette stuck out like a sore thumb in Merlotte's parking lot. He was reclining inside the car, staring at his phone. As I got closer, I could see his thumb moving quickly, composing a text message. He stopped and looked over at me, and got out.

"Hey," I said.

Eric put his phone in his pocket and turned around. He braced his hands against the side of the car, and bent over, sticking his butt out.

"Go on," he said. "What are you waiting for? I am at your mercy."

"Huh?"

"Touch it. I know you have been thinking about it." He gave a quick waggle. "I could feel the surge of your longing as you watched me exit the bar."

"What the-? Eric!" I looked around, making sure there was nobody else nearby to hear this embarrassing exchange. "Put it away. I'm not feeling you up out here."

"Just a quick fondle, lover. I do not mind at all."

I paused, considering his offer, and he waited. After a moment he looked over his shoulder at me.

"We don't have all night. What's wrong? Nobody will see." He gave me a wink.

My eyes locked onto his ass. It was just so... touchable. The temptation was simply too much to bear. I had another look around to make sure the coast was clear, and stepped forward. I gave one of his cheeks a quick pinch.

"There."

"Oh come on, Sookie, I barely even felt that. I'm wearing denim, not Lycra. Put some effort into it."

I gave another pinch, and Eric huffed and shook his head. I decided to go for it, and went for him with both hands. I cupped and stroked 'em. I squeezed and massaged those buns like I was juicing grapefruits. There was a certain amount of shame that I felt from getting so much enjoyment out of such a base, and quite frankly dirty, action of touching Eric's fine behind in a dark parking lot (and with my boss so close by!), but I just couldn't help it. I told myself that it was a good workout for my wrists.

Eric leaned his head back and started groaning.

"That's much better," he said raggedly. "Keep going, lover."

I 'heard' something nearby with my other sense, and immediately stepped back.

"Stop that," I said, and gave him a quick slap. Andy and Halleigh chose that precise moment to walk past. They looked at us – Eric bracing himself against the car, feet spread apart, and me standing close behind him, hand raised – with total astonishment. Then Andy seemed to gather himself, and quickly dragged Halleigh away by the hand, grumbling to himself.

"I promise to be a good boy, Sookie," Eric said, loud enough for them to hear. "Just don't spank me again."

"Shh, Eric!" I punched him in the back this time, hard as I could without hurting myself. "I have to look those two people in the face all the time. You're so..." I couldn't find the right word.

He turned around. He stood right in front of me, and looked down.

"Naughty?" His mischievous grin made me relax again. "Did you enjoy the bottom fondling?"

I tried to look angry at him, but couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Yes."

"Good. So did I. I don't suppose I could perhaps..." His voice trailed off, and he traced the back of his finger down my arm.

"No way."

He laughed, and gave me a quick kiss. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yep. I've got to take my car home, get changed, eat something, take a shower..."

"You can do that at my house," he said.

"You got food?"

"No. Not unless you would enjoy frozen yogurt and popsicles. I doubt that counts as a nutritious dinner. We can find somewhere for you to eat on the way."

I briefly wondered if Eric thought he would be eating this evening too. He hadn't fed from me in a long while. We hadn't really had the, er, opportunity, and I hadn't had the inclination. I wasn't sure how I felt about the possibility.

He'd just had that TrueBlood anyway, maybe he was already full.

"Alright. I'll see you at my house."

Eric followed me in his car as I made the short drive home. On the way I wondered what this was all about, him turning up at Merlotte's, kissing me like a scene out of some old Clark Gable movie, and then inviting me to his home. I can't say I was suspicious, but I can't say I was entirely clear on his motives, either. Perhaps he'd decided enough time had passed without him getting laid. Maybe he'd planned on some elaborate seduction. Part of me was thrilled at such a prospect, but I was also apprehensive. Was I ready? Would Eric be angry if I wasn't? And if he did want to feed, how would I feel about him biting me?

Maybe all he needed was an opinion on his most recent choice of soft furnishings, or he'd simply felt guilty for not inviting me over to his house sooner. Whatever the reason, I'd get to see where he lived, and I was pretty excited about that.

I parked in my usual spot behind my house. Eric pulled up just as I'd got out.

"Make it quick, lover," Eric called out as I raced up the porch steps. "Pack an overnight bag."

I swiftly turned at the door.

"But... well, how will I get home?"

"You're not working tomorrow."

"No."

"Had you made plans?"

"Well, no, not really."

I had in fact planned on taking some library books back tomorrow afternoon, but it would have seemed like a poor excuse to use that as a reason not to stay over. I'd just have to incur the small charges.

"Then I will bring you back myself, tomorrow evening."

I wasn't entirely sure what I thought of all that, but I was too tired to stand there debating it all night. So instead I quickly changed into some jeans and a shirt, and packed a few essentials in my biggest purse. I scribbled a quick note for Amelia and left it on the kitchen table, slung on a cardigan and some sneakers, and was back out again in three minutes flat.

As I locked the door, I thought longingly of my comfortable, warm bed that I was leaving behind. I wondered how warm and comfortable Eric's would be. I wondered if he would mind if I just took a quick tour around his home and then settle into his bed, snuggle beneath the covers, and fall sound asleep.

Eric was leaning against his car, watching me as I walked toward him. He took my bulging purse from me and opened the door, and I slid into the seat. He went and put my things in the trunk before getting in himself. He seemed oddly downbeat, after being so on form, earlier on.

"You're tired," he said, as we turned back onto Hummingbird Road.

"A busy shift at Merlotte's'll do that for you."

"You returned to work too soon. It's only been a couple of weeks."

I groaned a little bit inside.

"Nearly three," I said, sighing. "It's my job, I need the money."

"Money is not important. You are. If you needed-"

"I don't particularly want to be at home, either," I said, interrupting him, since I knew where he was going. "There are more distractions when I'm working, less time to think. Anyway, since when was money not important?"

"You keep rubbing your arms, and your leg is still painful, I can tell."

"I'm alright," I said through gritted teeth. "I need to keep working the muscles otherwise they seize up and they won't get better."

Eric stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the road. He and I both knew I'd just totally pulled that piece of medical advice out of my ass, but it sounded fairly reasonable to me. I looked out of the window, and hoped that would be the end of it. Thankfully it was. Maybe Eric wasn't in the mood for an argument either.

At some point he asked what I wanted to eat, and suggested that we went to some fancy restaurant or other, but I was definitely not in the mood for that, let alone appropriately dressed. I decided what I wanted to eat more than anything else was a cheeseburger. So that's what I had. I ate a drive-through cheeseburger and fries on the way to Shreveport. It tasted fantastic.

"Aren't you working tonight?" I asked, as I popped the last French fry in my mouth and scrunched up my greasy paper bag.

"No."

"But you look, you know, all vamped up."

Eric looked down at himself. He took a hand off the wheel and opened his jacket, and ran his palm across his body. See, even Eric couldn't keep his hands off Eric.

"Vamped up?"

"All the black, the leather, the mean and moody thing." I looked over at him. His pale skin was glowing in the dimness of the car. "Wait, was that for the benefit of the people at the bar?"

"What do you mean?" he asked a little too innocently.

"Don't give me that," I said, sipping the last of my Coke. "I saw how you got a kick out of scaring that old priest."

Eric flashed me a quick smile.

"Well, they don't often get vampires in Merlotte's. In Bon Temps you only have Bill. I thought that they would enjoy the opportunity to get an eyeful of a real vampire. I thought you might enjoy it, too."

I chose to ignore his dig at Bill.

"And the kissing?"

"Oh, that was just for you, lover."

I smiled happily to myself for pretty much the rest of the journey. The time passed quickly, and I felt some of my energy return. We chatted about everything and nothing, and I sang along to some tunes on the radio, much to Eric's amusement. Eric and I could be comfortable in silence too, which was always a good thing, I thought.

We soon turned off onto a long, curving road, leading to a large gate. I found it curious to discover that Eric lived in a gated community, until I considered the benefits.

"The security is excellent," Eric said, as a guard nodded us through, and the gate opened. As we drove on, I gawked at the large, modern fieldstone houses. The lawns in the neighborhood were neatly trimmed, and there wasn't a piece of stray trash to be seen anywhere. It was almost weird.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked.

"About six years," Eric said.

"What're your neighbors like?"

"Quiet. Private."

"The houses are real nice."

Finally, Eric said, "we are here", and pulled off to the left. His house was pretty big, for one vamp, though really it couldn't have been that much larger than my own farm house. There was a pleasant sturdiness to the structure, and since there were some lights on, it had a warm, welcoming feel about it. Like all the other houses, Eric's front yard was a picture of manicured lawn perfection, his flowerbeds free of weeds, the low hedges expertly trimmed.

The driveway came up to the left of the house, and there were large garage doors on that side. I saw two floors from the front, however when we drove closer I could see that his house was built on a slope, and a small flight of stone steps led around the side to a patio area, and a lower floor was visible at the back.

He stuck his arm out of the window, and pointed a key at the garage door, and like magic it opened. I held back from saying 'Open Sesame'. For some unknown reason, Quinn popped into my head. Eric pulled into the garage and parked. We both got out, and I disposed of my drive-in bag in a nearby trash can. There wasn't much else in his garage, not like you would see usually. In fact, it was positively gleaming.

Eric grabbed my bag, and unlocked the door. The light was already on, and I saw that this entrance led straight into the kitchen.

"Welcome," Eric said, punching some numbers into a keypad on the wall. "Shall I invite you in, vampire style?"

I smiled.

"Sure, why not."

"You are welcome to enter my home, Sookie Stackhouse."

"Well, thank you," I said graciously, as I stepped inside.

Of course, I set about having a good look around, without trying to be too obvious about it. The kitchen was a decent size, given that it would hardly get any use, but it was sterile-looking, and not nearly as warm and inviting as most kitchens I'd been in. The counter tops were cream, and the cupboards a generic pale wood.

"No shoes," Eric said, and pointed at my feet. He bent down to untie the laces of his boots, and flicked them off in the direction of a pile of random shoes near the door. _Okay._ I slipped off my sneakers and placed them neatly with the others.

"And the rest of your clothes. You leave it all at the door when you enter my home. This is a naked home."

"But-"

"My house, my rules."

Eric took off his jacket, and hung it up. I noticed that was as far as he went with the undressing. I decided to flout the rules and stay clothed, for the moment, and followed him onwards.

"Refrigerator, microwave, sink," he said, pointing at the things which were pretty obvious anyway.

"You use that stove?"

He looked at me like I'd just asked him if he preferred cat blood to fairy blood.

"Do you have a tea kettle?" I asked hopefully. "A coffee machine?"

"No," Eric shrugged, and carried on through. When I reached up to take a quick peek in one of the cupboards (it was empty apart from three wine glasses and a mug which said _'World's Greatest Boss'_ on it), Eric came back and took my hand, leading me onward.

"Come on, lover. You can go through my kitchen later, although it doesn't get much use, and isn't incredibly exciting."

"Do you even have plates?" I asked.

"Why would I need plates?"

"You never have any human guests?"

"No, not really. Bobby visits, of course, but I think he would be quite shocked if I prepared him a grilled cheese sandwich while we were having a meeting." He turned to me as we reached the door leading into the living room. "But I will get these things, for when you visit next time."

"Oh, you don't need to-"

"Because you will be visiting me again," he interrupted. "Often. You tell me what is required, and I will make sure it is here. I want you to be comfortable. I hope I don't have to remind you that you are my wife. A wife should have plates, don't you think? What sort of a husband would not provide his wife with suitable kitchen and dining equipment?"

He took my hand again. I was just about to open my mouth, and blurt something about stupid vampire marriage ceremonies not counting as real marriage, or something like _'You don't need to bother buying things just for me, I'll bring a few items from home'_ , when he brushed his thumb over my palm, and I relaxed. I stayed quiet. He could afford a coffee machine and a few dishes, right?

After the dull, muted color of the kitchen, I was almost shocked by the bright, warm colors in the living room. The walls were painted a lovely sapphire blue, and the furniture was colorful and comfortable-looking. There were lots of pictures on the walls organized randomly. Some of them were photographs, many of them black and white or sepia-toned. I stepped forward to take a closer look.

"Is that... wait, is that you and Pam?"

Eric looked over my shoulder at the picture.

"Yes. That was perhaps forty or fifty years after I turned her, maybe around 1890."

I grinned as I looked at it. Seeing pictures of the two of them from so long ago was amazing to me. I forgot, sometimes, just how old Eric was.

In this particular picture, Pam was sitting on a chair. The neck of her dress was cut high and the fabric heavy and dark. Her skirt was long, as were the sleeves, which puffed out at the shoulders (lamp chop sleeves, my Gran might've called them). The overall look was pretty dour, for Pam. Eric was standing beside her, his hand resting on the back of the chair, and he was wearing a dark suit with a bow tie. They both looked very stern.

"Why are you so miserable?"

"Everyone looked miserable in photographs then. I never even wanted to be photographed, it was Pam's idea. We vampires were wary of the technology of photography. It documented the passing of time too easily. For example, compare it to this one."

He pointed to another photograph. It was Pam, sitting astride a horse in what looked like some stables. It was still black and white, but she was smiling this time, and was wearing riding breeches instead of a fancy dress.

"When was this one taken?"

"Perhaps 1920. She looks even younger though, don't you think?"

"Hmm. Those old dresses can really age a girl. Don't tell her I said that."

"I won't. But she would probably agree with you."

"So how come you had them taken, if you were worried about being found out?"

"Pam liked it. We never had many photographs taken, but when she badgered me enough, I would allow it. You know what she is like."

"Uh-huh." I turned my head to look up at him. "I like your bow tie. It's cute."

Eric smiled and kissed my cheek.

"You might notice I have some space for your picture. When are you going to send me those sexy naked photographs? The ones which will bite you in the ass one day?"

"I already told you, no naked pictures." I looked back at the wall, and got a warm fuzzy feeling when I imagined a picture of me up there. "Maybe a nice one of the two of us together."

"Naked."

"Fully clothed."

"Whatever."

Eric turned and went to sit on one of the sofas; the big, deep red, comfy-looking one. There was a brighter red and gold love seat opposite, and a large, sturdy, dark wooden coffee table in between them. All the other furniture in the room was heavy and made of dark wood, and the furnishings and upholstery were in jewel tones, with beautiful, rich patterns. Everywhere I looked there was something interesting which caught my eye; a blue and gold antique vase, a large blue enamel bowl with a silver interior, a heavy, jade lighter. Somehow, it made me feel like I knew him a little better, seeing all these things. I cocked my head to the side as I perused his bookshelf.

"You're still dressed," I said, running a finger across some of the spines. "What about the house rules?"

"That can be easily rectified. Would you like to undress me?"

I turned and looked at him, lounging seductively on his big red sofa, and thought what an excellent idea that sounded like. I was still apprehensive about where such a task might lead, and how it might end, but you've got to break a few eggs to make an omelet, right? Keep on getting back on the bike when you fall off? Get Eric naked before you can decide whether or not you're ready to have his particular brand of incredible, intense, always very satisfying sex? Or whatever the saying was.

"I like your house," I said, walking towards him. "I like this room. It's very Eric."

"Impressive. Dazzling. Charming?"

I straddled his lap.

"Yes, that. Also intriguing. Complex." I ran my hands over his neck and down his chest. I popped a shirt button. "Tactile."

"Hmm."

"The vibrancy, the mix of new and old, the comfortable, solid furniture. It's all very you."

I popped a couple more buttons, and slid my fingers beneath the material, stroking his chest.

"I think you will find this sofa can be very comfortable," Eric purred. "I have a chaise lounge in the upstairs bedroom which I have longed to test out with you for some time. For comfort," he added.

I smiled at him as I undid the last of his shirt buttons.

"You've _chaise longed_ to test it out with me?"

Eric smiled back at me, and leaned his head forward to capture my lips with his.

"Yes," he said when I finally pulled away. He gripped my neck and lightly pressed his forehead against mine. "I am longing for you, my lover. Can you feel it? I know you feel it too. I felt it last night. I can give you what you need, Sookie."

I wondered, had he actually sensed all the emotions I'd gone through when I'd been dreaming the night before? Did he know what I'd been dreaming about? Was he picking up on feelings I didn't even realize I had myself? Our bond was one of the strangest phenomenon I had ever experienced. I still didn't know all the facts about it, and I didn't entirely trust my own emotions since we'd established it, perhaps mostly because I had so little understanding of how it worked or affected me. Sometimes I was glad it was there, and got a strange comfort from it. Other times it confused me and I hated it.

Truthfully, I didn't know what I wanted right in that moment. If Eric had any idea, I was willing to go along with that for now.

"What do I need?" I asked, as I peeled his shirt down over his shoulders. He sat forward and let me tug it all the way off. I ran my hands over his neck and chest again, enjoying the familiar feel of his firm muscles and cool skin beneath my fingers. It seemed so long since I just had the pleasure of touching him like this.

"This," he said, before kissing me, harder this time. He pulled away, and his lips traced my jaw and down my neck. "This." His lips were cool against my skin, but I felt hot all over. Eric's hands slid up to my shoulders, and he tugged off my cardigan. I slipped my arms out behind my back, and tossed it aside. Eric's hand made its way beneath my t-shirt, stroking at my waist. Then his hand was cupping my breast, and he squeezed, very gently. "This."

I wasn't exactly sure, but not about to argue, either. He was being so gentle and careful, his pace slow, his touch tender. While my mind was still confused about exactly what I wanted, my body had different ideas. It knew exactly what it wanted, and it was craving Eric's attentions. As if my body was running on autopilot, I leaned into him, pressing myself closer, wanting more. My fingers tangled in his hair as we kissed.

After a while, I pulled at the hem of his tank top, my hands fumbling, suddenly desperate to get it off and get him naked. He broke from our kiss to raise his arms and let me pull it off over his head. Then we carried on right where we'd left off, our kisses becoming harder and hungrier, our hands everywhere. Eric's were under my shirt, stroking my warm skin, kneading my curves. He pushed the material upwards, pulling my t-shirt up, tugging it off. As he kissed me again, I felt his fingers in my hair, and he pulled the band out to make my hair fall loose.

"Are you comfortable, lover?" Eric asked, as I shook my head, letting the locks fall free. My scalp relaxed, and he ran a hand through my hair.

"Sure. I'm-"

Eric's lips traced over my neck, as he stroked one of my nipples through the silky material of my bra. I gasped as it hardened further at his touch. I hadn't felt such an electrifying jolt of pleasure in weeks. It felt absolutely great.

"You're..?"

He moved forward, pressing his body to mine, leaning me backwards. I held on to the back of his neck, my fingers buried in his hair. Then he kissed down my chest, between my breasts, and above my stomach. My insides did a little flip.

"I'm pretty comfortable, yeah."

He kissed his way back up my body, and sat me up again.

"Good."

He pressed his lips to my cheek and jaw, sucking at my skin a little, before gently tilting my head to the side. He nuzzled his face against my neck, and sucked at the flesh there. I felt his fingers dragging the strap of my bra down over my shoulder, and he stroked down my arm with the back of his fingers. I felt him breathe me in, then heard the familiar click of his fangs.

My whole body tensed, and my breath caught in my throat.

I felt afraid.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ah, Eric?"

I let go of his neck and grabbed onto his shoulders, my fingers digging in, trying to hold him in place. Every muscle in my body was rigid with a fear I knew was utterly unwarranted and unreasonable. Yet it was there.

I felt the tip of Eric's nose brush lightly over my cheek, before he pulled back and looked at me for a moment. I could see the desire and hunger burn behind his eyes. More than that, I could feel it.

He looked at me, and I realized I must look like a deer caught in headlights. I loosened my grip on him a little, and tried to smile reassuringly. After all, I wasn't afraid of Eric. When he looked at me with even more concern, I became aware that I'd traded the scared deer face for my crazy waitress smile. I took a deep breath.

"I know it's stupid-" I began, but Eric stopped me with a kiss. His big hand cupped my face, and he brushed my cheek tenderly with his thumb. With his other hand, he slowly traced his fingers up my arm, replacing the strap of my bra back over my shoulder. I felt him relax again, and I followed suit.

"Perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves," he said.

"I want to," I said. "I mean, I think I do. Just..."

Just what? Just don't come near me with anything pointy? Just don't do what comes naturally to you when you're hungry and horny?

"We have lots of time," Eric said quietly, stroking my long hair against my bare back, soothing me. "I wasn't going to bite. I won't, until you are ready for it. I've missed you, that's all. You always make my fangs pop out."

I smiled at him.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Absolutely."

He grabbed his black shirt from beside me and draped it over my shoulders, and I pulled my arms through the sleeves. It was pretty huge for me, but it smelled like Eric, and I got a strange enjoyment through wearing it. I rolled up the cuffs as Eric did up a couple of the buttons, and felt myself relax some more. I curled up in his lap, and he kissed the top of my head as he stroked my hair.

Though he was outwardly calm, below the surface I could feel his anger bubbling. I knew this wasn't directed at me, of course, and could only imagine that it had something to do with my current state of mind. Eric tired to mask his feelings, especially of late, for my benefit, but it only served to make them more intense when they were finally unleashed. Eric was teetering on a fine edge, just as I was.

I could tell that he was building up to say something, something of importance. Right now, I didn't want to hear it.

"Sookie-"

I looked up at him, and traced his lips with my thumb. I shook my head.

"Some other time."

I felt his relief, or maybe that was just mine. We kissed for a while, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. It was just me and Eric, making out on his couch. I raked my fingers through his hair and stroked at the long locks as I lost myself in his kiss. His lips were so soft, his hair was too. There was just something so wrong about that; a thousand year old deadly vampire having lips as soft as silk pillows and hair a beauty queen would kill for. How come I could never get my hair like that?

"Do you use some kind of intense conditioning treatment or something?" I said, pulling back, stroking a blond lock between my finger and thumb. "What's your secret? It can't just be a vamp thing. No matter how much vampire blood I've had, or what shampoo I've used, my hair never feels this healthy. Seriously. Bill never had hair like this, and what's-his-name, Gerald, he had terrible hair."

Eric laughed silently.

"There's no secret. I'm just blessed."

"Oh, you're blessed, alright." In many areas.

"You wanted to shower," he said. "I will let you use my shampoo, if you want. How about a soak in the tub? I'd like to show you the rest of the house, as well."

"Okay."

"Come on then, lover."

He lifted me with him as he stood, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. Barnacle Sookie was back. His strong arms supported me, carrying my weight easily. I always felt a ton lighter when Eric carried me.

"Where do you sleep?" I asked, then immediately regretted it, as vampires tended to be pretty secretive about their daytime resting places.

"I have a room at the back of the house on the level below," he said. "When I bought the place, it was the route in through the back, with large patio doors. I had the whole thing walled off."

"You don't have a hidey-hole?"

"It is my hidey-hole, I suppose," Eric said. "It just happens to be a large room with all the usual comforts. Laying beneath miserable, dank floorboards is hardly my style, is it Sookie? Why anyone would still want to do such a thing is beyond me. You can see it, if you want."

I smiled, a little surprised.

"Okay."

He carried me out of the room and down the hall to the back of the house. I watched as he quickly typed a code into a keypad on the wall, obviously the code to open the door which I couldn't see.

"I should give you the code, in case you need to get in when you are staying here. Can you guess what it is?"

He pressed one more button, and I heard a heavy door slide open behind me.

"Um, Fangtasia?"

"No."

He set me down, and turned to look at the room. It wasn't as big as I expected, after seeing a little of it from the outside, but I guessed the walls had to be a few feet thick. There were no windows, of course. The walls were painted a deep wheaty gold color in here, but there was no set color scheme. There was a massive, high bed, neatly made, with dark blue and copper colored sheets.

"I don't know, Corvette?"

"No. One more guess. If you get it right, I will give you a prize."

There were closets along the left side wall, and some of the usual furniture you might find in any bedroom. There were books on the floor, but the room was otherwise tidy. There wasn't so much clutter in here.

"Is it obvious?" I asked, as I perched on the end of his bed. "Give me a clue."

"No clues."

I pursed my lips, and ran my hand over his soft sheets.

"Horndog."

"Horn what?"

"Wait, wait! Is it Sexytallblondvamp?"

"You had your last guess alr-"

"I'."

"Close."

"How close?"

"Very close," Eric said, leaning against the door frame. "It's ."

"I know that's not true, you didn't type in enough numbers."

"It's 766543. Can you remember that?"

"766543," I repeated. "Sure. It's like 76543, but with an extra 6."

I mouthed the number a couple of times, trying to remember it. I bounced on the bed a couple of times, just because that was something you did when you sat on a bed, right? It felt springy and comfortable. I kind of wondered what the point was, since I was pretty sure that when you were dead for the day you don't tend to notice or care about how comfy your mattress was. It was a far cry from a cold, dark hole under the floorboards in a closet.

"Shall we move on, then?" Eric said.

He held out his hand, and I got up and took it. He quickly showed me his office, which was actually bigger than his office at Fangtasia, before leading me upstairs.

When we got to the top, he opened the first door on the right, flicking on a light switch.

"Bathroom."

Bath room was right. There was a huge and very inviting-looking tub, and a separate shower. Along one wall there was a large mirror, and below it a wash basin with lots of cupboards and counter space. I quickly noticed that there was no toilet, and had a quick freak out.

"Where's the-"

"Second bathroom at the other end of the hall."

"Okay." I breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."

He switched off the lights and showed me some spare bedrooms, a dressing room (Eric had a surprising amount of clothes), and the other bathroom. Then he opened the door at the far end on the left of the stairs.

"This is our room," he said, flicking the light switch. It was the large, master bedroom. Like all the other rooms, it was furnished in bright, warm colors, with heavy dark wood furniture. Most prominent was the bed, positioned in the middle of the room to the right. It was the biggest bed I'd ever seen, and there were lovely dark purple and emerald blue pillows covering it, of all different patterns and textiles. The chaise lounge Eric had mentioned earlier was in the far left corner. It had no back to it, just a high head rest so you could lay out comfortably on it, reading a book, or, whatever. It was upholstered in a rich, deep burgundy textile.

There were built in closets with mirrors on some of the doors, and a large, comfy-looking chair to the left. A big, heavy wooden box sat at the end of the bed, and there were matching bedside cabinets, with lamps on each. The window, directly ahead, ran wide, and the heavy, dark velvet drapes were closed. There was a plush red carpet under our feet.

Eric went and switched on one of the lamps, and I took the opportunity to test out this mattress. I smiled up at him, and stroked the satiny bedding beneath my fingers.

"Very nice."

"Well, I am glad you approve."

He went over to the closets and opened a door. He reached up to a high shelf, and pulled down a large box.

"I have a gift for you," he said. I sat up, as he held it out to me. There was a big pretty red bow on it, and a tag which read 'For Sookie, my favorite telepath, E xxx'.

"What is it?" I asked excitedly, as he sat down on the bed beside me.

"Why don't you open it and find out?"

I smiled at him, rested the box on my lap, and removed the lid. I pulled back some tissue paper to reveal a beautiful peach and white silk nightdress, with a matching robe. I held up the nightdress by the thin straps, and wondered how soft it would feel next to my bare skin. The robe had long, billowing sleeves. I loved it.

"Thank you, Eric."

"Do you like them?"

"Absolutely. It's a beautiful gift."

I turned to him, placed my hand against his cheek, and kissed him.

"The color will look perfect against your skin," he said, running his fingers over the material. "Why don't you have a look around. I will fetch your things, and run a bath. Feel free to explore."

Explore I did. I bounced on the bed, which still seemed hilariously huge, but I couldn't wait to get under the covers and try it out. I did wait, though, and had a quick peek in the closets, which were mostly empty, apart from a pair of pink fluffy bunny slippers at the bottom, a red bow attached to one of them.

"Ah, I almost forgot," Eric said at the door. "Do you like them?"

"What, they're not yours?"

He dropped my bag beside the bed.

"Mine are much bigger."

I reached up to wrap my arms around him.

"Thanks."

"It is a pleasure."

He gave me a quick kiss, and then wandered back out, down to the bathroom. I carried on with my snooping. I went over to investigate a beautiful vanity under the window, with a large, ornate mirror, and a stool underneath. Some pretty glass perfume bottles and a silver hand mirror and brush set were laid out on the table, along with a delicate, porcelain dish. I could remember seeing no such girly items in Eric's room downstairs. I opened the top drawer, and there were all kinds of make up products in there. A card sat on top, with a picture of a sunset on it, and I took it out to read it.

'Sookie, I took the liberty of purchasing a few small items when Eric asked me to obtain a vanity for you to go in this room.

Top drawer – make up and brushes, etc. I picked out colors especially for you. Please do not overdo it with the bronzer, Sookie. I know you like to be brown but there are limits, especially with blondes. You do not want to look like a roast chicken.

Lower drawer – creams and other beauty products. More can be found in the bathroom. Perhaps you could try the anti-aging formula? Of course, I have never needed such a thing, but you are not getting any younger yourself (this could be easily rectified, you know. No creams required).

Left cupboard – sprays, perfumes, etc.

Right cupboard – hair care, hair spray, mousse, etc.

Other toiletries and oral care can be found in the bathroom. Hair dryer, curling irons, etc, also in there.

Enjoy. If you do not stink like a tart's boudoir and look like Miss Bon Temps 2005 the next time I see you, then I will be very displeased.

Pam.

P.S. Actually, did you see Miss Bon Temps 2005? I have just googled her and I am not at all impressed. Her hair is too foofy and her eye make-up overpowers her whole face, which has delicate features and would benefit from more classic, feminine shades. Her swimwear was laughable. So do not try to look like Miss Bon Temps 2005. Think classy and sophisticated, like me. Pam.'

I laughed, and had a quick rummage through the drawers, then flung myself back on the bed. Eric's black shirt fell open, and I slowly stroked my stomach. My fingers brushed over one of my many scars; the one where I got staked in Jackson. Then I closed my eyes and splayed my arms out to the side, and sighed. Eric had made me feel more welcome than I could ever have imagined. I was touched at the thought and time he had put in, as well as Pam. Neither of them were used to doing such things for humans, I knew for sure.

As I lay on my back with my eyes closed, I listened to the faint sound of the bath water running, down the hall. Even fainter, but just discernible if I strained hard enough to hear, was the sound of Eric humming a tune to himself as he pottered around. I realized that there was a complete silence in my head. While it was great to have Amelia around, she was such a clear 'broadcaster' that without even knowing it I was constantly working to keep her 'quiet'. If I wasn't at home, I was work, and that was even more of a chore mentally.

The peace here was wonderful.

I sat up, and rose from the bed, walking around the other side. I picked up my big purse and placed it on the bed, and rummaged for my wash bag. Pam had probably taken care of everything I might need, human female-wise, but there was nothing like some of your own things while you were settling into somewhere that was new and unfamiliar to you.

I undressed and slid on my new peach and white robe, and I might have done a couple of twirls in front of the mirror, just for good measure. I folded my clothes and Eric's shirt, and put them on the chair to the left of the door. Then I slipped on my bunny slippers, grabbed my wash bag, and went to the bathroom at the other end of the hall.

This bathroom was smaller than the other one, but still much larger than mine at home. It was more brightly lit than the other too, and had all the usual bathroom suite items, along with twin wash basins. Pam had indeed provided all toiletries I would ever need to keep me going for months, maybe years.

Once human bathroom things had been taken care of, and I'd brushed my teeth and combed out my hair, I switched off the light and headed down to the other bathroom at the opposite end of the house. My new slippers felt soft and squidgy under my feet, like new slippers did. I wondered if Eric really did have a matching pair.

The bathroom door was ajar, and I pushed it gently.

"Hey."

I pushed harder, and saw that Eric had already gotten into the tub. There were lots of lit candles and the soft, warm, flickering light was very inviting. There was a beautiful, delicate scent filling the room, and music playing low in the background.

He opened one eye, and beckoned me forward.

I slid off my bunny slippers, and the tiles beneath my bare feet were surprisingly warm. Underfloor heating? Very plush.

I stepped forwards. I undid the sash of my robe, slipped it off, and draped it over the chair beside the counter. Eric had seen all my scars, and I felt no shame or embarrassment as his eyes took in my nakedness. My more recent injuries were healing up well, anyhow, and you wouldn't even know I'd had chunks of flesh bitten off. There was an assortment of pink bumps, here and there, and a few pink gashes that were still healing, but the bruising and bloody scabs were all gone. I'd be right as rain, soon enough.

Eric sat up and took my hand, and I stepped into the warm water to settle in opposite him. The faucets were on the side of the tub, and there was a shower head attachment too, resting on top. There was lots of room, and I rested my legs on top of his. Lucky for me I'd only just shaved my legs the day before, and I knew I was smooth in all the right places.

I leaned back with my hair draped over the back of the tub. I closed my eyes, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere and the comfort of the warm, scented water. Eric rubbed at the soles of my feet with his thumbs, and I sighed with contentment.

"You're spoiling me."

"Am I?" Eric said.

"Uh-huh. Watch out, I could get used to it."

"I should have invited you sooner."

"Oh, we've only been married a couple of months," I joked. "You had to get the place ready for me, right? Kick out the fangbangers and all that."

"I don't ever have guests here," Eric said seriously.

I opened an eye and smirked at him.

"Well then, why do you have a bathtub that could fit six people in it?"

"Six tiny people," Eric said. "Perhaps six Dr. Ludwigs. It is a perfect fit for you and me, don't you think?"

He picked up a bar of soap from the side, took the sponge from the water, and lathered it up.

"When I mentioned earlier that you were tired after work and not yet fully recovered, I was not spoiling for an argument," Eric said. I sighed, and he lifted my leg at the calf and began to wash me. "I only mean that there is no need. Your well-being is important to me."

"I know." I really did, and I was grateful for his concern. "And it really means a lot to me that you care. But it was time for me to get back to my normal routine. I need that. And really, I do need to work my muscles, Dr. Ludwig said so."

Eric gave me a suspicious look, cocking his eyebrow. He lowered my leg back into the water, and started on the other one.

"You can always work for me."

"Uh-huh."

"I could have you do some special projects. Secret, important things. For me."

He put the sponge aside, and used his fingers to massage the now slippery skin of my calf.

"Oh yeah, I wonder what these important things might be," I said sarcastically. "You know, I do not tolerate sexual advances in the workplace."

"I should hope not."

"You'd be one of those bosses."

"With you, yes."

"I think maybe I'll pass right now."

"The offer is always open."

"I'll let you know."

Maybe working for Eric wouldn't be so bad, really. Sometimes I thought it might even be fun. But I also knew that work and relationships don't mix. Eric being my boss as well as my boyfriend? It was surely a recipe for disaster.

I groaned as his expert fingers worked my muscles. The combination of his hands and the warm water were doing wonders for my aches and pains.

"Is that good?" he asked.

Good didn't nearly cover it. I realized how much I'd missed the attentions of Eric's hands. I made a generic noise of approval, and he began massaging my other leg.

"You missed me?" I said, recalling something he'd said earlier. He had seen me, after all, although perhaps not as often as we would've both liked. Maybe he meant he had missed the old me. The me who wasn't traumatized by her hideous torture experience.

"Yes," he replied. "We are bonded. Of course I miss you when we are apart. I care for you, and I want you to feel well. I'd like to see you smile more again."

"Well, look, I'm smiling now."

And I was, or at least I was trying to. In fact, I'd smiled plenty already this evening. I missed the old me, too. I wanted to get better, not just for myself, but for him. For everyone. Miserable, traumatized Sookie was such a drag.

"I know it has been... difficult," Eric continued. "I have been busy, and you have been recovering. It would be useful for you to visit me here, when you have the time. I would like you to be here."

I could tell he was doing his best to make me feel welcome, and that he was being absolutely genuine. Of course, he was also thinking practically, and with him busy at the bar most nights with sheriff business, we might get to see each other that little bit more, if I were to stay here now and again.

"I think I'd like to be here too, sometimes," I said quietly.

We shared a brief smile, and Eric carried on with his massage. Once he'd finished both legs, he sat forward and took my hand, and washed my arms one at at time, taking extra care with my wrists. I watched him as he worked, my eyes half-closed in relaxation. I noticed that he was calmer, his face was more open and at ease, his eyes attentive and warm, especially when they caught mine. Eric was more comfortable in his own home, and he was doing a great job of trying to make me feel special and relaxed. Gone was the anger and pent-up frustration I had been sensing from him all too often. I guess I'd been feeling a lot of that too lately. I tried to enjoy the pleasant change in both our moods while I could.

"Turn around," he said, and I sat up and shifted myself around so I was sitting with my back to him, in between his legs. He brushed my hair over one shoulder, lathered up the sponge again, and began to wash my shoulders and back.

"Did you and Pam have fun together?" I asked, smiling to myself about that photograph I'd seen earlier. "I mean, what did you two get up to in the old days?"

"Oh, we had fun," Eric said, and I could hear the joy in his voice. "Wherever we went."

"Where did you go?"

"We left London soon after Pam was turned, and we spent some time in France. We traveled all over Europe. She enjoyed the traveling, since she had always wanted to see other countries."

He rinsed my back, and began working the muscles with his fingers.

"What did you do about traveling in the daytime?"

"We didn't, whenever possible. Journeys had to be carefully planned, especially long journeys overseas. There was no Anubis Air, back then. There were times when we had to go to ground, in emergencies, but they were few."

"How did you stay hidden? Weren't humans suspicious when you only came out at night, and all that?"

"We kept ourselves private, letting few people in. We moved around regularly. There were techniques we employed to ensure our true nature was kept secret, and I had grown used to it, of course. By that point I had had centuries of experience at blending in and avoiding detection. Lots of wealthy people slept in until late, anyway, and spent their evenings at their own leisure. We were just another couple of lazy Bohemians."

"What did you do for entertainment?"

After I'd said it, I almost wished I hadn't. Sex and dinner, and possibly possibly murder, might have been the obvious answer.

"Lots of things. We went to the theater, or to music halls, or shows. Took a stroll, enjoyed the sights, mingled in polite society, and wreaked havoc. Pam once fancied herself an actress, and took to the stage herself."

I looked at him over my shoulder.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. She was quite admired, and critically acclaimed. Mostly. I will spare you the details of what happened to those who dared to give her bad reviews."

I smiled, but he was right, I really didn't want to know.

"Was Pam always, like... Pam?"

"Yes," he said simply, and didn't elaborate. I chuckled to myself, and stroked at his legs, beneath the water. After he had done a great job on my back and shoulders, I leaned back against him and closed my eyes. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my shoulder. He laid back and I relaxed against his body.

"Do some people make better vampires than others?" I asked. My voice was kind of far away, and I realized I'd begun to feel tired again, after all the excitement.

"Absolutely. The best vampires are practical, confident, smart and adaptable. They should have a natural sense of adventure, and lust for life. Miserable people make terrible vampires."

For some reason I thought of Bill. I hadn't seen him since the Fae War, although I knew he was still recovering himself. I had been incredibly self-absorbed, but figured I had earned the right to focus on myself for a while. Still, I needed to make time to visit him. I should thank him for saving my life, and maybe buy him a classical music CD to express my gratitude.

"Pam was all those things?"

"She was." Eric ran the sponge over my chest. "Shall I wash your hair?"

I shook my head. "I can hardly keep my eyes open," I said, struggling with my heavy eyelids.

"Let's go to bed," he said.

Once we'd finished drying off, and I'd managed to get most of the excess moisture out of my hair (I really didn't want to get the dryer out, the thought of the noise was too much), I slipped my robe and my slippers back on. Eric drained the tub, switched off the music and blew out all the candles. I wandered down the hall to the other bathroom, where I combed my hair out, and brushed my teeth again. I felt as relaxed as I could ever remember feeling. My skin was soft and glowing.

After applying a little of the fancy moisturizer I found to my face, I went back into the bedroom. I took off my robe and slid on my new nightdress. As suspected, it felt soft and light as a feather against my skin. I moved a few of the extra pillows from the bed, pulled back the sheets, and slid under them. Beneath the plum colored top sheet were crisp, white sheets. It really was as comfortable as it looked. I sighed with contentment.

"Finally," Eric said. I opened my eyes to see him standing in the doorway. He was still naked, of course, and I took some time to just admire the view.

"Finally what?" I asked.

He closed the door, and came and got under the covers with me.

"Finally, I have you in my bed," he said. He plumped his pillows, and lay down on his side beside me. "I have wanted you in my bed for a long, long time. It is lucky that I am patient, or I would have had to take more drastic measures to get you here."

"Well, maybe it wouldn't have taken so long if you'd have just asked nicely."

"I'm fairly sure I did, on a number of occasions."

"'Yield to me' is not a polite invitation, Eric."

He smiled.

"Do you like being here?"

"I think maybe I do," I said, before yawning. "It's so comfy."

It really was. I could just get lost in this bed. The sheets were soft, the pillows perfectly plump, the mattress firm yet springy. My skin felt soft and warm, and I could still smell the scent of the bath oil. My muscles were relaxed, all the tension just seemed to have flowed down that bath drain. I felt better and more comfortable than I had in a long time. Having a big Viking in there with me was like the cherry on the cake.

"Turn over, my lover," Eric said. I gathered enough energy to raise an eyebrow at him. "Just do it," he said.

I rolled over, so I was facing away from him. My limbs felt heavy, and I thought that if he had any intentions of ravishing me, I wasn't going to make for much of an energetic partner.

I felt his hand on my back, and his fingers began massaging gently. I smiled, and I tucked my hair under my neck, and Eric traced patterns on my back. Sometimes his tenderness was at such odds with his vampire nature. He never ceased to surprise me.

"Eric?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"This was the best time I've had in ages. Thanks for inviting me, and, well, being so patient."

"It is my pleasure," Eric said softly, and he leaned forward to kiss my shoulder. "And I will wait, lover, as long as it takes."

My throat tightened with emotion at his words, but tonight was not a night for tears. Eric carried on stroking me, and I soon fell fast asleep.

I didn't sleep right through, but when I woke in a panic, Eric was there.

Eric was there.


	4. Chapter 4

That burgundy chaise lounge found its way into my dreams.

I was laying back on it, naked, arms behind my head, as Eric stalked towards me. He knelt on the end of the seat and leaned down, and his lips made their way up my body. My back arched as he latched on to a nipple. He sucked hard, rolling his tongue around, then nipped gently with his teeth, before moving on to tend to the other. Then his lips trailed back down my body, his tongue occasionally darting out, tracing my skin. When he got to my stomach, he moved off the seat and knelt on the floor. He gripped me at the waist and pulled me further down. His hand traced up the back of my leg, and he held it up as he kissed my inner thigh. I felt the soft brush of his hair as his lips moved, first to the other side, and then to the center. I laid back, spreading my legs further for him as I enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of his mouth on me.

I began to writhe, and brought my hand down to tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, winding my hips, grinding myself against his mouth. I wrapped both legs around him, and Eric brought a hand up, squeezing at my breast as he continued to devour me.

The pleasure was incredible, but no matter how much I ground against him, no matter how much he sucked or licked me, I just couldn't come. Frustrated, I pushed at his shoulder with a foot and Eric immediately pulled back and then moved forward on top of me. I reached down between us and placed him right where I needed him to be, and he pushed forward. The joy of having him inside me was tempered by the fact that no matter how hard he pounded me, or how slow, how deep or how smooth, I couldn't make it. My orgasm was always just out of reach.

A change of position was definitely called for. I turned over, kneeling, my butt high in the air, begging to be taken, and Eric obliged me. We went at it for what seemed like hours, at all kinds of angles. I sat up, leaned down, pushed my ass back against him as he thrust in and out of me.

Nothing.

The frustration was annoying in the extreme. The only thing more annoying was the fact that the reality was even more frustrating.

I visited Eric's house again a few nights later. This time Pam came over, and we watched old movies. Eric got bored and went to do some work in his home office, and Pam and I bickered about the romance of Gone With the Wind.

"Honestly, Sookie, how can you even enjoy this drivel?"

"It's a classic!" I responded, shoveling another handful of popcorn in my mouth. "Don't you even feel a flicker of emotion?"

"No, never," Pam said. She was laying out on the sofa, and I was laying on the one opposite. The flat screen TV mounted on the wall was much bigger and clearer than mine at home.

"Come on, Pam, I know that's not true."

"Alright, alright. Very occasionally I feel an emotion, but it's exceedingly rare, and I try to avoid such an occurrence at all costs."

"You should open up a little more, let it out."

"Oh God no. I would go on some kind of murderous rampage. No, it has never been in my nature to be over-emotional, even when I was human. Emotions get in the way of things, don't you find?"

Hmm, emotions weren't my allies these days, that's for sure.

"But you get angry, right?" I asked. "You feel pissed off sometimes."

"Well of course, but I don't allow such a basic emotion to overtake my rational thought. Emotions are dangerous things, Sookie, especially when it comes to vampires. It is not like our human emotions are immediately taken from us when we are turned, or that we lose all feeling after we become more predatory. Vampires need to be rational and clear-headed, especially those in high rank." She gave me a side glance. "Like Eric."

I side-eyed her back and she smiled. Pam smiles were always disconcerting.

"Hmm, I guess I understand that."

"It is much better to be able to take positive action," Pam continued, "rather than to panic, or cry, or something similarly pathetic. For example, if something terrible were to happen to someone close to me, I might try not to be angry and sad about it, since the energy expended through such emotions could be better focused on purchasing you popcorn, watching terrible old movies, and assuring you that I took great joy in celebrating the bloody demise of your Fae enemies."

"Oh." I pictured Pam dancing and twirling, throwing her hands up as red confetti rained down. "Thanks. That's real sweet, Pam."

She smiled at me again.

"Come and sit over here." She patted her leg, as if she were beckoning a pet dog. "Come on."

She leaned over the arm of the sofa to delve in her purse, and pulled out a brush. I went and sat on the floor in front of her. She was wearing lilac and cream pajamas, with cute little bears on them. I figured she'd bought them especially. I was wearing my own blue pajamas, and had on some big fluffy pink socks.

Pam began brushing my hair.

"How is Amelia?" she asked.

I sighed.

"She might be going back to New Orleans soon."

"Is she? Well, perhaps that's for the best."

"Did you like her?"

Pam thought about this for a while.

"She was quite interesting," she said finally. "There was something charming about her in an odd, annoying sort of way. She was certainly very adventurous. Some of the things-"

"Hm-mm," I interrupted. I really didn't want to know. "Well, I'll miss having her around."

"What is this in your hair, Sookie? It's sticky." She grabbed a lock and I felt her sniff at it. "Have you been baking or something?"

"Oh, yes, I was," I said, a little embarrassed. "I didn't wash my hair when I showered earlier. I made muffins for Tara today. She's pregnant, did I tell you?"

"Hmm," Pam said, brushing harder. "Will there be baby raining celebrations?"

"Huh?"

"Baby raining," Pam repeated. "Raining babies. You know."

It took me a while to realize what she was talking about.

"Shower! It's baby shower. Yeah, I guess there will be. I'll need to organize it." That would certainly give me something else to think about. It might even be fun. "Hey Pam, I was looking at those pictures on the wall the other night, and Eric and I were talking about some of the stuff you'd been up to. Were you really an actress?"

"I was brilliant," Pam said immediately. "My stage name was Lily von Hottenstein, but Eric called me Lily von Hotlips. The stage wasn't for me, really. It couldn't handle my talents."

"She overacted," Eric said from the doorway.

"I most certainly did not." She leaned over my shoulder to look at me. "My techniques were before their time. Absolutely innovative."

"When she couldn't remember her lines she just made it up as she went along."

"It's called improvising," Pam said through gritted teeth. She leaned over my shoulder again to address me directly, and smiled. "You see, as a professional, you have to judge the audience, Sookie. If it is not going well on that night, you have to give them what they want. A bit of excitement. Spontaneity."

"Random bursts of wailing," Eric added. "Nudity."

She glared at him.

"Well, as I say, Sookie, I was ahead of my time, and innovators are not always appreciated. Eric once worked in a zoo, didn't you, Eric?"

"I owned a zoo, Pam."

"He liked the penguins best, and the sea lions."

"What?" I asked.

"Weren't you going to go and close up the bar tonight?" Eric said.

"And the owls."

"Now."

Pam stopped brushing my hair. She smoothed it through with her fingers, and then popped the brush back in her purse.

"I'd better go change," she said as she got up from the sofa. "I have lots to do. I can't spend all night here grooming your human, entertaining her with tales of our glory days. Someone has to do the work." She gave Eric an over-sweet grin as she walked past him out the door, and he shook his head at her.

Eric came over and laid out on the sofa behind me. I turned, and rested my head against his thigh.

"Did you really own a zoo?"

"Yes."

"But... why?"

When I imagined Eric a hundred or so years ago I thought of him, well, I don't really know how I imagined him. Some sort of mysterious, seductive, dangerous stalker-type, maybe. But... _a zoo_?

Eric seemed to clam up, and I could sense something from him. Something close to embarrassment. He stroked my freshly brushed hair back from my face.

"Shall I braid your hair for you, lover?"

"Eric."

"Do you want some of the coffee? I read the instructions on the box, I think I can use the new machine."

"No, I don't."

"I could rub your feet. I like your socks."

"Quit evading me."

He went quiet for a few seconds.

"It was a reasonable and worthwhile business venture. I had some rare, exotic animals, and made quite a profit."

"Why would a vampire own a zoo?"

"Mo-ney," Eric said louder and with more clarity, like I was stupid.

"So why are you all embarrassed about it?"

"Because," Pam said from the doorway, pulling on her jacket, "he saved them all. All the wittle fwuffy animals."

"Goodnight, Pam," Eric said, dismissing her with a flick of his hand. "That will be all."

"You saved the animals? What happened?"

"It was the worst zoo ever," Pam said. "The poor creatures were so moth-eaten and starved that they were all going to get sold off for food or their furry hides or whatever, and those that were so far gone that nobody would buy would get shot. Eric bought the whole lot and renovated the place to its former glory, and restored all the animals back to health."

"Aww. That's so sweet."

"It was a business decision," Eric said firmly. "I did not care about some matted old mangy bears."

"You loved that bear," Pam said. "Dickie."

"Dinky," Eric corrected. I made another 'aww' noise, and Pam laughed behind her hand. Eric went to stand, and Pam dashed off straight away through the kitchen and out through the garage.

"Goodbye, Sookie!"

"Bye Pam."

Eric grumbled to himself and laid back down.

"I think-"

"Don't," Eric said.

I got up from the floor and lay beside him, draping my leg over him.

"There's so much I don't know about you."

"There's a lot to tell, I suppose."

He put his arm around me, and pulled me closer.

"I'd like to know more."

"Good," Eric said, kissing the top of my head. "This is good."

We sat there quietly for a while. I closed my eyes, and my mind wandered. I imagined Eric as a sort of Dr. Doolittle character. I started thinking about him grooming his little bear, Dinky, and began laughing to myself.

"What are you-" Eric said. "Never mind. I don't even want to know. Are you done watching movies?"

"Uh-huh."

"Shall we go to bed, then, lover?"

"Hm-mm." I looked up at him. " _Eriiiiic_."

" _Yeeees?_ "

"Was Dinky like a big grizzly bear, or a polar bear, or-"

"He was a brown bear," Eric said shortly. "You have had a long day. Let's get comfy upstairs."

He didn't seem to want to elaborate on Dinky, so I decided to leave that conversation for another time. No matter how curious I was.

I went to the bathroom, while Eric went and set the house alarm, since he wasn't going back out that night. By the time he came upstairs, I was already under the covers. The bed was so big, if I laid in the middle, I could spread out in any direction and my limbs wouldn't poke out of the sides. It made me think about all the room available for activities other than sleeping.

"You know," I said, as he got in beside me, "I had a dream the other night."

"Yes. The dirty one."

I was momentarily lost for words.

"Hang on, do you know what I dream about?"

"No, but I sometimes know how you feel when you dream."

"Oh."

"I have been meaning to ask you about it. Was it good?" He snuggled down beneath the covers, and smiled mischievously. "Did it involve a certain tall, blond vampire?"

"Well, yes. It kind of involved you and I and that big red chaise lounge."

Eric raised an eyebrow, and inched closer.

"Carry on. Do not spare the details."

I recounted the dream in as much detail as I could remember it, filling in the blanks I couldn't recall with some appropriate dirtiness. Eric's hands got busier the further I got with it.

"Then I was sitting up on my knees and you were behind me."

"Oh yes, lover."

"And you were kissing me, and screwing me, and touching me all at the same time."

"I am a great multi-tasker," Eric said, his hand up my top. "Go on."

"And you were hitting just the right spot, over and over."

"So good."

"Pounding me."

"Yes."

"But I just couldn't come. Then I woke up."

Eric let out a sort of frustrated grunt, and I understood just how he felt.

"I would surmise that it is difficult to orgasm while you're dreaming." He sat up a little, and looked over at the piece of furniture in the corner. "I think we could do wonders on it."

"Maybe another time," I said, easing him back down. "I like the bed. It's comfy."

For a moment it looked like he was considering dragging me out of the bed and doing me exactly the way I had just described, but then he relaxed, and smiled at me.

"Do you have any other sexy dreams to tell me about, my lover?"

I laughed.

"No."

"Well, just make one up, then. A bed-based one."

"Alright." I placed a finger to my lips and thought about it. "Okay. In my bed dream, we're in bed, obviously."

"Obviously."

"You're entirely naked."

"But you're clothed," Eric said, tugging my pajama top over my head. "This seems wrong and very unfair, so I get you naked as soon as possible." He made short work of my bottoms and my bra. "Isn't this how it goes?"

I rolled on top of him.

"Hey, this is my dream. You'll get your turn."

"Fine. What happens next?"

"You kiss me, and lick me all over. And then you make sweet, sweet love to me, all night long." _And my orgasm jar overflows and I have to start a new one._

"Hold on," Eric said. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "That is too quick. You need to be much more specific and detailed. You mentioned some kissing."

"Hm-mm."

"Does it go like this?"

He cupped my face in his big hands and kissed me. We rolled around in the bed, kissing over and over, our hands stroking and caressing. Then he began to kiss my body. He kissed my arms, my shoulders, my chest. He turned me over and kissed the backs of my knees, my thighs, my back. He kissed my scars. He kissed me everywhere.

"Did you mention some licking, also?" Eric said, before he proceeded to lick my body, too.

By the time he was through, I was shivering beneath him.

"What else, lover?" Eric said, his lips at my ear. "Tell me what else."

"You touch me," I whispered.

His hand slowly slid down between my thighs.

"Like this?" he said. His fingers probed just a little, and he stroked gently.

"Hmm," I breathed. "Oh."

"More?"

"Yes."

He found the right spot, and his fingers worked their magic. I gasped at the sensation, and I was almost shocked that he'd been able to coax such pleasure out of me. The tight bundle of nerves felt highly sensitive to his touch. I reached down to touch him too.

"Eric, now," I said, but he kept up. "Eric."

"You are ready?"

I was pretty sure he could tell I was, physically at least.

"Yes."

He kissed me, and his fingers probed deeper.

"You are sure?"

"Oh God, yes," I groaned.

A brief smile crossed his lips, before he was on top of me, and I spread my thighs wide, urging him on. He gave me another uncertain look, and I nodded at him. I was going to have sex, damn it. And I was going to darn well enjoy it.

He slowly pushed up into me, a little at a time. I held on to him, my arms around his broad back, closed my eyes, and did my best to relax. While I concentrated on my breathing, Eric leaned down to kiss the side of my face and neck. I felt a sort of discomfort as he pushed further, but I urged him on, squeezing him closer with my thighs, easing him forward with my hands.

Once I'd relaxed and Eric had found a slow rhythm, things began to feel much more comfortable. Eric rolled us over so that I was on top, and sat up. I wrapped my legs around his back, and my arms around his neck. It felt good to be so close to him, to be wrapped around him, to have him inside me. As we kissed I began to move on him, and Eric guided me, his hands at my waist. It was slow and gentle. It felt good, not like it always had before, but more than anything it just felt great to be having sex with Eric again.

But for some reason, I just couldn't let go. There was a tension in my body that I just couldn't seem to shake off. I tried to concentrate on the motion of our bodies, my breathing, Eric's face. Nothing seemed to work. I knew I was thinking too much, but it was like my brain couldn't switch off for my body to take over. Still, this was definitely a step in the right direction.

Soon, I could sense the closeness of Eric's release, and I unwrapped myself from his body. I sat up on my knees and worked myself harder on him. I knew he was waiting for me, and he brought a hand down to tease me with his thumb. He screwed up his eyes and began groaning, and whispering phrases in that ancient language of his. I realized that what I wanted more than anything in that moment was to see his pleasure. It might have been cheating, but I took his hand by the wrist, brought it to my mouth, and bit, hard as I could.

The noise Eric made as his orgasm overtook him was beautiful to me. It was a sound of pure animal pleasure. The sight of him, too, was a feast for the eyes. Perhaps I'd always been too distracted before to really notice. All my senses seemed more acute all of a sudden, as if I'd been suddenly awoken from a dream. I listened to his growls and moans, and those unfamiliar words, which for the briefest of moments, I thought I understood. I listened to the sound our bodies were making together. I watched his eyelids flicker and his mouth open as the pleasure seared through him.

He looked at me with a wild passion in his eyes, as I continued to suck. The points of his fangs were just showing, and his hair was a wild mess. He looked just like the predator he really was, but I didn't feel like his prey. I felt calm and in control. It felt good.

Our movements were slow and languid by now, and the wound on Eric's wrist had healed, so I let go. He wiped some blood from my lip, first with his thumb, and then with his tongue.

That night, and the night after, I learned all kinds of things about Eric I never knew before. I learned he had a faint battle scar at the back of his left thigh that I'd never even noticed before. I learned that I could make him smile and squirm if I bit him on the nape of his neck. I learned that he truly did enjoy snuggling. I learned some other things, too. I learned the fine art of pleasuring a man with your mouth. I learned that there was no more beautiful a sight as a sated Viking smirking wickedly at me as he lay splayed out naked on crumpled white sheets. I learned that sometimes, in order to reclaim something of yourself which you lost, it helps to give a little bit of yourself away.


	5. Chapter 5

Did I ever mention how annoying it could be, having a blood bond with a powerful, intense, and it would seem, constantly pissed off vampire?

I mean, I was no happy camper myself, but having Eric's negative feelings floating about in the back of my consciousness just seemed to make me feel twice as miserable. Which, incidentally, was pretty miserable.

One night at work, after nearly smashing a pitcher of beer over someone's head in my rage, I decided enough was enough. I indicated to Sam to let him know I was taking a break, stormed outside and pulled my cell phone from my pocket. I had Eric on speed dial.

"Yes?" Eric said, answering abruptly on the second ring.

"Oh, hello to you too," I said, heavy on the sarcasm.

"It is not a good time. Is something wrong?"

I wanted to punch him and scream at him and hug him and get him naked, all at once. I wanted to tell him yes, something _was_ wrong. I was tired, and pissed off, and I was damn well angry, all the time. My scars itched, and my wrists still hurt, and my leg was achy. I wasn't sleeping. And I missed him.

"No," I grumbled. "But I just almost smashed a guy's head in with a big glass pitcher, and that's your fault."

"How is that my fault?" He didn't sound amused or angry, his tone was level and bland. "What have I done?"

"Nothing," I conceded. I could hear the music and other bar noise in the background getting fainter, so figured Eric was on the move.

"Well then, this man you were going to harm, what did he do?" I heard a door close. "Did he deserve it?"

"He was being a jerk," I sighed. "But he didn't deserve it, no. My tan's coming along." I stretched out my bare arm, though I couldn't really see the color in the dim light of the parking lot. "I was just out in the yard this afternoon. You know how famous my tan is around Bon Temps."

"Hmm."

"This guy called Kenny Mallister, he used to work with Jason, but Jason said he was real lazy and always did anything he could to get out of doing any hard work, especially heavy lifting. He dated Tara one time, but she said that he was cheap and kept pinching her ass so-"

"Kenny, yes," Eric interrupted. I heard him sigh. "What did he do?"

"He was imagining me naked, wondering if I had tan lines."

There was a pause. I wondered if I'd revealed too much, including the guy's name.

"I'm sure lots of people try to imagine you naked," Eric said. "Have you been sunbathing again? Did you use the protector lotion? I have heard the ultra-violet rays can be incredibly damaging. You really should consider the negative health implications of such a pastime."

I was so angry I could have spit, but settled for stomping my foot.

"It's, like, my one vice, Eric."

"Is it? You drink."

"I-"

"You have sex outside of human marriage, although of course you and I _are_ married, in the vampire sense, which is the most important. But either way, you have sex with a vampire. Is that a vice?"

"No."

"How about all those positively wicked things you were doing to me, just a few nights ago?"

His voice was low and seductive. A tingly warmth spread through me.

"Well..." I flashed on Eric, splayed out naked on the bed, under my total control. I could almost feel his cool, hard flesh beneath my palms, between my lips, the taste of him on my tongue. I heard his groans. I screwed up my eyes and shook my head, trying to focus. "Sex isn't a vice," I said. "That doesn't count."

Even as I said the words I doubted them. Sex with Eric was wicked in the most wonderful of ways. But we were kind of married, right? So maybe that made it less of a vice. I wasn't sure if God would agree with that. My Gran had sex with a fairy _while_ she was married, and no one ever called her a bad Christian. Admittedly, nobody knew about her indiscretion, but still.

"Killing," Eric said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "That's a vice."

I was about ready to boil over with rage.

"You're getting vices confused with crimes."

"I am just pointing out that tanning is not really a vice, and if it was, it is certainly not your only one."

"You know what? Sometimes I could just punch you in the face, Eric Northman."

"This is definitely your anger, not mine," he said calmly.

"Well how come during the daytime I don't feel half so murderous? Come sundown, I start to get more crabby. It's you making me want to wallop my customers."

It probably wasn't entirely fair of me to be blaming Eric for my mood swings, and guilt began to creep in. Truth was, undoubtedly some of my negative feelings were my own. But the bond only seemed to serve to exacerbate them, and I wanted to only be responsible for my own emotions, and not have to handle his as well. I simply didn't have the energy.

"Perhaps I have not been in the best of moods this evening," Eric conceded. "But if I was horny, what would you want to do with your customers then? I think I would rather you beat them."

I suddenly lost all my energy, and stepped forward to lean against a post.

"I'm tired," I said quietly. "I can barely find the energy to smile at people, let alone jump them. What's going on with you?"

"Area business, and things I do not want to trouble you with just now."

I sighed, and realized I should be working. My energy was completely sapped. I looked over my shoulder at the back door, and felt reluctant to go back inside. My feet felt like they were made of lead.

"Are you okay?" I said tiredly.

"I think we are both under a lot of stress right now. Admittedly, strong blood bonds are not always helpful in such situations."

"You know what's good for beating stress?" I said, smiling.

"Oh yes." I could picture him waggling his eyebrows expectantly.

"Incense and dolphin music."

"Dolphin music?"

"Yeah, you know, those little high-pitched squeaks that dolphins make."

"Singing dolphins?"

"Sort of."

"I don't think this would do anything for me at all. You could sing for me instead. I think this would improve my mood."

"No way," I said, laughing.

"If you sing for me I won't be half so miserable, which will improve both our evenings, and the safety of your customers."

I scanned around, checking whether there was anyone nearby.

"I can't sing."

"You can. I have heard you. Go on."

"I don't know what to sing."

"Pam," I heard him say faintly as he moved away from the phone. "Name a song."

" _Bring Da Ruckus_ by Wu Tang Clan," I heard Pam say immediately.

"What?"

" _Bitch Please_ by Snoop Dogg?"

"What's with the-"

" _Fresh Pair of Panties On_? _Can You Control Yo Hoe_?"

"Get out."

"You told me to give you a song, I gave you four."

"I don't like those ones."

"What do you want this song for?"

"Sookie is going to sing for me."

"No I'm not," I said loudly. "Eric, I should get back to work."

"Ah, I see," Pam said. "Is there no end to her talents?" Even from the other end of the line, I could hear the sarcasm. "How about, _I Wanna Sex You Up_ by Color Me Badd?"

"Eric-"

"No, not that one."

" _Shake Ya Ass_ by Mystikal." She began singing. "Shake ya ass, watch ya self, shake ya ass, show me what-"

"No."

" _Let Me Eat Your_ -"

"No."

There was a silence at the other end of the line.

" _Let's Get It On,_ _Love to Love You Baby, Loving You,_ " Pam reeled off. " _Ring My Bell._ "

Eric sighed.

"You can go now, Pam."

" _Ace of Spades_ by Motorhead."

"Komma ut."

"I'm just trying to help. You ask for songs, I give you them. Sometimes I have no idea..." I could hear Pam's grumbling trail off.

"I think I know _Shake Ya Ass_ ," I said.

"Pam has a varied taste in music."

"Was she dancing then, when she was singing?"

"Yes."

I smiled. I looked around again, and reached out with my other sense, but there was no one nearby. I thought about singing _I Can't Get No Satisfaction_ , just for the fun of it, but wondered if either of us would really find it that amusing, or if Eric would even get the joke.

I began to sing.

"Loving you, is easy cos you're beautiful..." I could hear Eric laughing quietly. "Making love with yoo-ou is all I wanna dooo. Lo-vin' yoo-ou is more than just a dream come true. And everything that I dooo, is out of lovin' you."

"Perfect," Eric whispered. He liked to say that sometimes, even when things were only moderately tolerable, such as my singing voice. "Perfect."

"La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la la-la la laaa. Doo-do do-do do-ooo, aaah-ahahahaaha."

There was a long pause.

"You have the voice of an angel," he said.

"You know I can't hold a note."

"Such a delightful, heavenly sound. So sweet, like tiny chiming bells. Tied to the underside of a yak on heat. But I think you even got a couple of the notes right there."

"Hey!" I grinned as he laughed heartily.

"It was a joke," he said. "It really was beautiful. Much better than the original version."

"Well, you asked for it. You happy now?"

"Yes. Immeasurably."

"Good, maybe some of it will rub off on me. I've got to go," I said with a heavy sigh. "Sam'll be wondering where I've gotten to."

"I won't beat anyone tonight if you don't."

"Deal. Hey, Eric?"

"What?"

"I-" I pursed my lips and scuffed a sneaker against the gravel. I realized how cold it had gotten outside, and I rubbed at my arm to warm myself. "I'll see you soon." The sentence came out more as a question.

"Yes."

As I put my phone into my pocket and trudged back inside, I hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

I felt a little calmer for the rest of my shift, even slightly upbeat. I couldn't get that damn song out of my head, though. _Lo-vin' yoo-ou..._

I was still singing it as I drove home. The closer to the house I got, the happier I began to feel. At first I put it down to simply craving the comfort of a soft nightgown and my warm bed, but then I realized it was something else, or rather, someone else entirely, making me feel such anticipation. There was a sort of buzzing feeling beneath my skin, and a tingling sensation that made my hair stand on end. I had to stop myself from putting my foot down and driving at a dangerous speed. By the time I pulled up my driveway, I felt so happy I was practically bouncing in my seat. The reason for my sudden excitement was sitting on my porch swing.

Eric stood and sauntered down the porch steps as I parked. He was wearing jeans, a Fangtasia t-shirt, and a lopsided smile. He looked extra Eric-y somehow. He was a real sight for sore eyes. My grin was so wide it hurt.

I grabbed my purse and got out of the car. I tried not to look too over-excited to see him as I walked towards the house, but of course, he could feel it anyways. I decided to give up the cool exterior, and leaped at him. Eric caught me easily and spun me around, and I wrapped myself around him and kissed him as hard as I could.

"This is a sweet surprise," I said, as I hugged him tightly. My wrists hurt from squeezing him, but I didn't care. I nuzzled my nose in his hair and breathed him in. "I thought you were busy."

"I was, and now Pam is." _Great,_ I thought. I was going to get the blame for that. "Did you hit anyone?"

"No," I answered, laughing. "Did you?"

"Did you miss me?" he said, evading the question, I noticed.

"Maybe."

He pulled back and looked at me seriously.

"Maybe?"

"A little."

"Oh, I think you can do better than that."

"Why don't we go inside and I'll show you how much I missed you," I said, as seductively as I could manage. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I hope it was lots," he said, as he let go of me. I got my keys out and dragged him back up the steps.

"Oh, it was."

I unlocked it and we went in. I kicked off my sneakers by the door.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. There's blood in the fridge."

Eric grabbed my hand again and pulled me back to him, and squeezed my butt as he kissed me.

"I could always-"

"I won't be long," I interrupted. The idea of getting Eric in my shower would usually have got me pretty excited, but I really did want to get clean. He looked a little disappointed to not get a shower invite, but sloped off into the kitchen and left me to it.

It was late, and even though I knew Amelia would already be in bed asleep upstairs, I tried not to make too much noise. Amelia was one of those early to bed, early to rise people, not like me at all. I could tell she was sleeping, because of how quiet the house was. Pretty soon my house would get a whole lot quieter, all the time, once she was gone.

I quickly undressed and dumped my uniform in my laundry basket. I pulled the band out of my ponytail and shook my hair loose, before I stepped beneath the warm water. I half expected Eric to come swaggering in, but he didn't. After I'd finished washing, I quickly shampooed and rinsed my hair, then shut off the shower. When I pulled back the curtain and reached for the towel, through the doorway I saw Eric sprawled out on the bed. He was half naked, and his big, pale, bare feet were hanging off the end. He was flicking through one of my mysteries, no doubt looking for the dirty parts (of which I knew there were none). I toweled myself down, pulled on my robe, then dried my hair and brushed my teeth. Finally, I switched off the bathroom light, and closed the door behind me.

"Are you clean, my lover?" Eric asked, as I knelt on the bed beside him.

"Perfectly, thank you."

"You know I'll only get you dirty again."

"Well, that's the fun part, right?"

He tugged at the sash of my robe, making it fall open, and his hand reached inside to stroke my waist.

"You have healed well," he said. "I knew you would."

"I'm gonna have some training sessions with my friend at the gym, try to rebuild my strength some, now that everything's healed up."

"You are already stronger than you know." He reached up to stroke my face. "You are an extraordinary creature, Sookie Stackhouse."

I didn't know about that. I was just trying to get better, and get through it the best I could. I didn't feel too extraordinary when I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like I could hardly breathe, or when I burst out crying at completely random moments, or when I broke down and wept for those close to me who had lost their lives, like Claudine, and her unborn child. The pain was still with me, all the time.

"Well, the damaged nerves in my wrists are taking a while to heal," I said, rubbing at them. "My leg still hurts sometimes, too, but all in all, I can't complain. I'm here, right?"

Eric lowered his hand. His face lost some of its warmth, his features setting into hard, tight lines.

"Yes," he said. "You are." He looked me over, and his hand pressed against my leg, as if he were making sure. "What can I do?" he said.

I shrugged.

"Make me smile, and laugh, and moan."

For now, those three things would do. A little basic happiness. I didn't really trust myself with anything more complex. When I was alone it felt okay to break down, but with Eric, I tried to pretend to be my old self. This was for my own benefit, not his. It sort of gave me hope.

Thankfully, no matter how he really knew I felt, somehow he understood. We didn't talk about what had happened, and he didn't push me. He simply gave me the time I needed, and let me know he was there.

Sometimes he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, and I never knew whether I wanted to hear it or not. Eric got that look on his face again, and this time I waited. But whatever it was, he kept quiet. Instead, he took me by the waist again and pulled me down to the bed, and I settled beside him. Our legs twined, and his cool hand snaked up the back of my robe, his hand stroking up and down my spine and over my butt. I stroked my fingers over the light sprinkling of hair on his chest.

"You want to smile, laugh, and moan. In that order?" Eric asked.

"Any order works for me."

"You said you wanted to know more about me."

"I did," I remembered.

"My thousand year history is an open book for you. Tell me what you would hear, my lover."

I smiled wide and sat up on my elbow.

"Really?"

"Yes. Anything."

A thousand years is a long, long time; so long that I could barely comprehend how anyone could have lived that long, and still be able to recount memories from so long ago. I thought about Eric swaggering around in various historical outfits; tights and doublets and ruffs, chain mail, armor, robes, fancy suits with cravats and top hats and walking canes. I had no idea where to start. I pictured him wandering from place to place, being the talk of the town for a while, seducing some locals, and then moving on again. I could ask him if he ever drank from anyone famous, or maybe I could ask him about that zoo...

"How about I tell you of some of the great battles I've fought?" Eric said, when he was tired of waiting. "My Viking battles."

His eyes lit up as he said the words. Eric loved a good fight, and I could imagine he almost longed for the good old days when you fought hand to hand, with a sword or an ax, and really went for it. He was in his element when he was brandishing a sword, graceful and precise, despite his size, and of course absolutely terrifying. But I wasn't in the mood for battles.

"How about you tell me the story of when you met a telepathic barmaid from Bon Temps?"

He smiled and rolled onto his back.

"Ah, now there is a tale." He rested his arms behind his head and settled against the pillows. "Are you sure you want to hear that one? I could tell you about the time I was ambushed by twenty ruffians from a nearby rival village and slayed them all single-handedly."

"No, I-"

"Or my bravery at the battle of Fýrisvellir."

I jabbed my fist in his ribs.

"Alright," Eric said, amused. "There is no need to get angry again."

"Just tell me the story."

"Well, I don't remember that evening in any great detail," Eric teased. "Although I do recall that Bill's hair was looking particularly good. I could tell he'd spent a lot of time on it, combing and forming his bangs into precise waves. He might have used some mousse to gain volume. I think he was wearing beige slacks."

I jabbed at him again, and he turned his face to look at me. His eyes softened.

"I thought I had forgotten what it was like to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, until that moment."

I pressed my lips together to stop from grinning.

"She was hot then, this telepath?"

"I mean Bill, he was really quite radiant that evening."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but laugh.

"As for the telepath," Eric continued. "She was a positive feast for the senses. A ray of light the like of which I had not seen in centuries. I knew I had to have her, and that it would only be a matter of time before I did. As it happened, it took much longer than I had anticipated."

"You're not used to getting knocked back, then?"

Eric raised an eyebrow at me.

"I think I have never met anyone as stubborn as this woman. Even when I wore pink Lycra for her, still she would not yield. Such were the lengths I went to in order to earn her favor."

The memory of Eric in that outfit made me laugh, and I edged closer, resting my head against his chest. I wondered if he'd kept the leggings.

"Yes, I do," Eric said.

"You do what?"

"Have them. I thought that one day you might want me to don them again, for your pleasure."

I quickly lifted my head to look at him, astonished.

"How did you-"

"You are so predictable, or at least in this you are. Do you think I don't know how your mind works, Sookie? I do not have to be telepathic to know what you are thinking. When you are thinking of me, your thoughts always lead somewhere dirty."

"They do not!"

"If others could read your mind, they would be barraged with thoughts of me, my nether regions tightly encased in pink spandex, and you doing unspeakable things to me after you peel them off with your teeth."

I shook my head and pressed my cheek to his chest again, laughing silently to myself.

"You really kept them?" I said after a while.

"Why-ever wouldn't I?" Eric said. "They were surprisingly effective. I never realized the incredible allure of bright pink stretchy material before, and I never knew when I might need them again. I think you were mesmerized by them. That was the moment."

"What moment?"

"When I revealed my outfit to you, and you stood there, mouth agape, drooling. That was the moment when you decided you had to have me."

"No, Eric. That was the moment I realized you were even more of a cocky show-off than I'd previously thought you were."

"You loved it."

I had certainly learned a few things about Eric, physically, that night. Boy, did I remember that. Without even realizing it, my hand drifted down to stroke him through his jeans.

"You were supposed to be helping me."

"I was helping."

"You were coming on to me."

"I am an opportunist. You invited me to go to an orgy with you, Sookie. You might not have known me very well, then, but you knew me well enough to know that I would take advantage of the situation to get you underneath me."

I thought back to that night; the horrible, uncomfortable scene of that orgy, and Eric laying me out on the hood of his car. It was such a bad moment to try to seduce me.

"How did I even let it get that far?"

"That is the power of a large Viking in a revealing outfit. You were certainly a challenge. I had a lot of fun, though, not matter how frustrating or exasperating it was. I cannot remember ever being so enthralled."

I wanted to be that Sookie again. I mean, not the one who goes to freaky orgies to find out who murdered her friend. But the one who was fearless, and cunning, and a little bit wild. The one who faced everything head on, and had a sexy, powerful vampire donning pink spandex to get noticed by her. I wanted to have fun again.

I undid Eric's belt and popped the button of his jeans, before slowly sliding my palm over his stomach and down inside. His smooth hardness was already filling my hand, and Eric let out little grunts as I worked him harder. When the constriction got in the way, I whipped off his jeans, and my robe along with them, and Eric leaned on his arms and watched intently as I continued to pleasure him.

He sat up and leaned forward to kiss me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to brush against mine, as his fingers twined in my hair. He pulled me closer to his body, and I let go of him to wrap my arms around his neck, and lost myself in his kiss.

"It's just you and I, lover," Eric whispered, as he placed kisses at the sensitive spot below my ear. "Relax. Let me make love with you."

His words had me swooning in his arms. He rolled me onto my back, and kissed a sweet, winding path down my body, his hands stroking and caressing the whole time. When his lips finally found their intended destination, my back arched, and I closed my eyes tightly. I stroked his hair as he slowly kissed and then licked me, the feeling so soft and delicate, yet so overwhelmingly pleasurable.

He took his sweet time, and I lay back and enjoyed the sensations flowing through my body. I listened to the delicious sounds of his lips and tongue on me, along with the sound of my ever deepening breaths. Every so often I'd look down, and he'd catch my eye. I could tell he was enjoying himself just as much as I was. His hands began wandering over my body, over my stomach, up to my breast. His fingers probed inside me, while his tongue flicked over my hard nub.

I couldn't tell you how long we went on like this. After a while I began to realize that it was taking longer than it should, and that I wasn't even close. Eric's fingers brushed over one of my more recent scars, and it was like all the energy just left my body. I leaned my head back onto the pillows and sighed.

Eric wasn't about to give up that easily, though. He gripped my waist and rolled over, taking me with him, and I was suddenly on top. His big hands stroked my thighs and over my butt, and he pressed me closer to his mouth. Kneeling over him like this gave me a different sensation, and more control, and I began to wind my hips. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, and find the position for the most optimal pleasure. I was glad that Eric didn't have to breathe, because I would most certainly have suffocated him.

After a while I leaned back, and reached my hand behind me. My fingers found him rock hard and ready, and I gripped him, and stroked. Eric was not going to be distracted, though, and pulled me back. His shook his head underneath me, making me cry out, and I fell forward, my hands gripping the pillows tightly.

" _Now,_ " I thought, gritting my teeth. " _Noooooow. Come onnnnnn._ "

I was panting and moaning, but the more my body tensed and prepared for orgasm, the more it seemed to slip away from me.

I hung my head, my hair falling forwards in a wild tangle, and moved off him. Eric was reluctant to let go, but relaxed his grip on me. His legs were hanging off the bed, and he moved up, sitting back against the pillows. I immediately straddled him. His hands caressed me as I slowly lowered myself onto him.

We made love for what seemed like hours. Eric was as attentive as he'd ever been, being slow and soft when I needed it, and harder and faster when I needed it, too.

My orgasm remained elusive, but I found that I'd still enjoyed myself immensely. I'd been closer than I'd been for a while, and maybe next time things would go back to normal. Being with Eric, and being naked with Eric, made me happy, and for a while it had just been the two of us, and I'd been myself again. Almost.

After lying on top of him snuggling under the covers, and chatting about nothing in particular for a while, I rested my chin on his chest and looked at his face. I looked at him for a long moment, not really thinking about anything in particular. Eric was easy to look at. Then I realized he seemed even paler than usual, and if it were possible, he seemed tired.

"You're thirsty," I said.

"I'm not."

"Hmm. Who's the bullshitter now?"

"You are the bullshitter."

"Did you drink from anyone else?"

"No," Eric said immediately.

We'd never really discussed his feeding habits. I think I preferred not to know. Somehow, it made me feel better, knowing he hadn't fed from anyone else, while at the same time I was concerned. It was just blood, anyhow, and drinking blood was what vampires did. Eric needed to feed.

"You could just, you know, have a quick nip now if you wanted. I think I'm okay with it."

He remained outwardly calm and serene, but try as he may, he couldn't seem to help but lick his lips.

"Truly, there is no need. We can wait."

"I'd like you to. It might help me, maybe get over some stuff." He remained absolutely still. "Some tasty, delicious Sookie blood. Mmm." I smacked my lips. "Yum."

His fangs ran out.

"You're sure?"

"Uh-huh."

I smiled and nodded, and lay down beside him as he turned to me and pressed his body to mine. He kissed me softly, then he brought my fingers to his lips, and kissed the tip of each one in turn, as he looked into my eyes. He gave them a little lick, and I finally understood what he was doing.

I pressed my forefinger up against one of his gleaming fangs, and felt a tiny sting as I broke the skin. I pulled it back to see the droplet forming, and Eric swept his tongue over it. Then he closed his eyes, and sucked lightly on the tip. I could tell he was enjoying himself; he let out a quiet moan and began to move on the bed. The sensation felt pretty good for me too.

"Oh. That's not so bad," I said, smiling. "Not so bad at all."

I pressed my middle finger up against his other fang, and drew it back, drawing more blood this time. I swung my leg over his hip, and Eric rubbed against me as he sucked on both my fingers. He opened his eyes and watched me intently as he fed.

After a little more light sucking, he parted his lips and let go. His eyes were bright and glowing. I looked at my fingertips, and already there was no trace of a tiny hole, or even any redness. They were just pink from having been sucked.

"Well," I said, "that was hardly a meal."

"It's the best I've had in weeks," Eric said, his voice a low growl. He pressed himself against me again, his hand sweeping over my back and thigh, making my skin tingle.

"Have you not been feeding at all?" I asked. I kind of felt like a mother chiding an unruly child.

"What?"

"You still look pale."

"I always look pale. I'm a vampire, you know."

"Yeah, I'd noticed."

"It's one of the vampire things, paleness. I have been feeding. I drink synthetic blood, just like a good mainstreamer."

"Something tells me that some vamps just don't enjoy the bottled option."

"Well, nothing can compare to your sweetness, my lover."

I thought of my blood as a kind of vitamin pill for Eric. A good dose would really perk him up, maybe help him with all this work he had going on. Another little donation would be like an investment, I figured.

"How about you bite me?" I said.

"I already fed."

"Oh come on. Sucking on my finger isn't even like having hors d'oeuvres. And I know that bottled blood doesn't really do it for you either."

He looked at me like he was trying to figure me out. Or maybe he didn't know what hors d'oeuvres were. Either way, finally he swept my hair back, and began to kiss at my neck.

"You don't have to do this," he whispered at my ear.

"I want to," I breathed, as I closed my eyes. "You think I'd be doing something I didn't want? I got plenty of TrueBlood in the fridge. I could just go and warm you another one, if I wanted."

"Here?" he asked. His cool lips felt so good against my skin. "Lower?"

I brought my hand up and touched the bottom of my neck.

"Here."

Eric was never one to leave marks, and I knew I'd heal right up. It was a practical place to bite, perhaps not as sexy or intimate as some of the other places he enjoyed to feed from (although of course there was an element of that, no matter where the bite was). But this wasn't about my pleasure or about sex. I found that I really wanted to feed him, and that I just wanted it for that.

"If you want me to stop, just say so, and I will."

I nodded.

Eric's fingers massaged the back of my head, and he kissed at my neck, then sucked a little on the skin. His palm slowly stroked my back in circles as the suction increased. I could hardly even tell when he bit, but I knew when he had, because he began to swallow. I stroked his hair and closed my eyes. It wasn't entirely comfortable, and I didn't get a lot of physical pleasure from it, like I had on occasion before, during sex, but it still felt good.

Finally, he slowly drew back and then licked at the puncture marks. We settled ourselves opposite one another again. I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, mopping up a small droplet of blood, which he licked away with a flick of his tongue. We looked at each other for a long, long moment.

"Was that okay?" he asked, when he finally seemed to calm himself a little.

I smiled and nodded.

It had been a long, long day, and my eyelids began to droop. I closed my eyes, and Eric held me. I felt a warmth inside, and a sense of contentment, and in that moment all was right with the world. I almost allowed myself to believe it. As I drifted off, Eric's fingers stroking lightly through my hair, I heard a faint voice, which sounded far, far away.

"I am here," the voice whispered. "And I will always be here, and I will always be yours."


	6. Chapter 6

After Amelia left to go back home to New Orleans, I felt sure I was going to spiral back down into my pit of despair. Instead, slowly and gradually, over the next couple of weeks, I really began to see an improvement.

Visiting with my brother and his girlfriend Michele, seeing Bill, talking to Tara and JB about their baby, along with spending the odd evening with Eric, had all made me feel much more like my former self. Things were settling back into a more normal routine, and I even found myself looking forward to the future. I felt useful and needed by those around me again, my appetite returned, and I was sleeping better and had more energy at work. I felt almost perky again.

Eric had also finally found the right moment to tell me about what had happened to him on the night I'd been kidnapped. Victor Madden had chained him in silver, forbidding him from coming to my aid, concocting some bullshit story about how Eric wasn't allowed to get involved in Fae business, and denying all knowledge of any marriage between us, or any protection from the King. I felt somehow better knowing what had happened to Eric that night when I'd been crying out for him, and understood his rage even more. I also felt a furious anger for Victor that I never imagined I could feel for anyone, other than my attackers. I found him a nice spot right at the top of the Sookie Stackhouse hate list, and in my head I began fantasizing about staking him.

I got a call from Eric saying he'd meet me one night after work to take me to Shreveport. He said there was a band on at Fangtasia that I might enjoy, and the thought of having some fun and maybe getting to dance, as well as seeing my vampire honey, had me jumping around the house excitedly. He said he'd pick me up at 9:00, and I made sure I had an early shift.

Because I was feeling heaps better and was so excited about my date, I pampered myself in the bath for way longer than I usually would before I got ready for work. I picked out a pretty cream dress I'd bought a couple of weeks previous from Tara's, when I'd prescribed myself some retail therapy. I laid it out ready, along with some of my best, sexiest underwear, and pulled out a pair of sandals with a small heel. The dress was just long enough that it would cover the worst of my scars, which were almost healed completely. I was tired of covering up, anyway.

I had a dreadful shift at work. Holly called, saying she was going to be late, and Sam asked if I could stay until she made it in. I reluctantly agreed, hoping that I'd still make it home in plenty of time before Eric arrived. Then, twice some dumb drunks knocked over their drinks and broke their glasses, and it fell on me to clear it up. Everyone seemed to choose that particular evening to be thinking dirty or disturbing thoughts, and I was having trouble keeping them out of my head.

" _I wonder what it'd be like to have sex with a monkey."_

" _If my wife doesn't give me head tonight I'm divorcing her, for sure this time."_

" _How would it even work? Would they like it?"_

" _I really shouldn't try on her bras, but they make me feel so sensual. I wonder if anyone would notice if I wore one under my shirt at work."_

" _Monkeys are almost human anyway, right?"_

" _That's it, I'm gonna fuck my boss, then I'm gonna quit. Then I'm gonna tell his wife what a fucking bastard he is. Then I'm gonna screw her, as well."_

" _Where would I get a monkey from?"_

And they called _me_ the town freak.

"Hey!" I turned on my heel and strode toward monkey man with purpose. I picked up his empty glass from the table in front of him, and waved it in his face. "Sex with a monkey is definitely non-consensual, morally wrong, and I'm pretty sure it's in the Bible that monkey sex is a no go, definitely not in the rules."

The guy's mouth hung open, and his eyes bugged in shock. His friend sat motionless opposite him, totally confused as to why I'd come over and started preaching about the ethics of copulating with monkeys.

"I... I, er..."

"Even if it wasn't in the Bible, it's a monkey, what in the hell are you even thinking?"

Well, unfortunately, for me, I knew exactly what he was thinking. I stomped my foot, as frustrated at myself as I was at those around me. I knew better than to make my extra sense known, especially at work. What an idiot.

" _Did I say all that stuff out loud? Can she hear inside my head? Oh God oh God she can, la-la-la-la not thinking about monkey sex oh fuck la-la-la-la..."_

"Just..." I tried to recover the situation, grasping for some sort of way out of it. "Never mind. Just don't, all right? Did you want another beer?"

The man nodded slowly, his jaw still hanging slack.

"Coming up."

I turned and scooted off.

"Dude, why is that chick going on about you having sex with a monkey?"

What was wrong with me, I wondered, getting all uptight about some guy's weird thoughts? I usually just let it slide, since I was used to hearing much worse. I seriously needed to lose some of this tension.

I went around the back of the bar to pull the beer myself. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. I re-formed my shields, and tried to focus on thinking about what a great time I was going to have later on. I'd get to dress up, and dance, and see Pam. Plus I planned on kissing Eric's face off and banging him harder than a screen door in a hurricane. Our recent lovemaking sessions had been sort of tender and intimate, and while this had been just fine, truthfully, I was beginning to get a little jealous of our one-sided completion problem. I thought about what I might do to him later on to alleviate that problem. I imagined undressing him slowly, taking my sweet time, unwrapping him like a special gift...

"Sook?"

I felt a tingling down the back of my neck, and a warmth spread through me, right through to the tips of my fingers and toes. I knew this feeling well, by now. He was early.

"Hmm?" I mumbled dreamily, my eyes still closed.

"Sookie," Sam said, more sharply this time, and my eyes snapped open.

"Wha?"

"Beer?"

It was flowing over the glass.

"Oh, yeah." I quickly shut off the tap and wiped up. "Sorry."

I took nasty monkey man his beer and collected some empties. I was tidying the glasses behind the bar when Eric strode in. All eyes were focused on him as his gaze homed right in on me. His hair was tied back and braided, and he was wearing a brown leather jacket over a black tank, and some rather tight black jeans and heavy black boots. Boy, he looked good enough to eat. So good, in fact, that my mouth watered. Someone actually wolf-whistled.

He swaggered over and took a stool at the bar in front of me, completely ignoring the stares and whispers. A couple of seats down, Jane Bodehouse, our resident alcoholic, grinned at him.

"Hi," she said dreamily, through her booze-induced haze.

Eric turned to look at her. He gave her a quick, uninterested glance, then turned back to me.

"Good evening, my lover."

I leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"You're early. I thought you were meeting me at my house."

"I'm not that early," he said. "I thought you would've finished your shift by now." He looked over at Sam and gave him a displeased stare. Sam stared back for a moment before flicking his bar towel over his shoulder and looking away, quickly finding some menus to shuffle at the other end of the bar.

"Well, I probably should've been home by now, but Holly's had car trouble and she's gonna be late."

"And that is your problem because...?"

"I won't be long," I said, placing my hand on top of his. "You want a blood?"

He nodded.

I turned and bent over the refrigerator, taking my time sifting through the bottles.

"Do you always do that?" Eric said sharply, and I smiled to myself.

"What?" I shifted my weight to my other foot, making my butt wiggle.

"That. Shouldn't you be bending at the knees rather than the waist? There are health and safety guidelines, I'm sure. Does Merlotte not give you training on these things?"

I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Oh, don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I thought you might."

I pulled out an O Negative TrueBlood and stood straight again.

"So tell me about this band we're seeing," I said, as I popped the bottle into the microwave. "What're they called again?"

"Dead Edd and the Dead Heads. I have no interest in them, but Pam is obsessed. She has pictures on her phone and on her computer desktop wallpaper. She's been trying to book them for ages."

"Pam's fangirling?"

"Fang what?"

"Doesn't matter. Will I like them?"

"Perhaps," Eric shrugged. "Apparently they're quite popular."

He took off his jacket, exposing some serious bicep goodness, and tossed it over the stool beside him. His black tank was tightly fitted, like the jeans, and showed off his magnificent torso perfectly. Jane Bodehouse made a strange wailing noise, fell off her chair and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"You okay, Jane?" I asked, leaning over the bar.

A couple of guys came and helped her up. She laughed manically as they struggled to get her back on her feet.

"Whoo! Don't know what happened there!"

"Time to go home," Sam said as he came up behind her.

"I'll take her," another of our regulars said.

"I want him to take me," Jane slurred, pointing at Eric.

Eric raised an eyebrow at her as she was carried past him.

"What interesting patrons you have here."

"You might've helped. You could've caught her."

"Why? She might have been sick on me."

The microwave pinged and I turned to retrieve Eric's blood.

"Jane's never sick. She's a professional."

I shook the bottle and picked out a hi-ball glass, before pouring.

"I wanted a martini glass," Eric said, smirking at me. "And I want two straws. Blue ones."

"We've only got black straws."

"Can I have a sparkler?"

I sighed dramatically and cocked my hip.

"You're so demanding with your synthetic blood orders. Who do you think I am, your serving wench?"

"Oo." Eric smiled, and his eyes widened. "My serving wench?"

"Yeah, didn't you have those, back in Viking times? Big, busty women, spilling out of their dresses, serving flagon after flagon of ale or mead or whatever it is you drank, while getting groped by drunken men. I'm pretty sure I've read some-"

"You are certainly not a serving wench," Eric interrupted. "And if you are ever groped by drunken louts I will take great pleasure in taking those dirty hands, ripping them off and keeping them as trophies." He raised his voice as he said the last few words, and cocked an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. Lots of people got busy looking at their drinks or their feet.

"Eww, Eric."

"Of course, I know what you are capable of," he said, smirking at me. "I trust that you would at least break their wrists yourself."

"Oh, that's a little extreme. But sure, you know I can swing a punch when I need to, and I wield a pretty good tray."

"And that is one of the many things that makes you so wonderful, my lover."

I leaned forward on the bar and bent closer to him.

" _You_ can grope me," I whispered, "without any nasty consequences."

"I can?"

"Uh-huh." He leaned forward to kiss me, but I pulled back before our lips could touch. "Later."

"Tease."

I placed a napkin in front of him and presented his blood. As he took a sip, Holly came rushing in, muttering apologies to Sam and going on about how unreliable her old Chevy was. I dropped my shields to check on whether she really had been having car troubles – she had – and was barraged with thoughts about myself and Eric. Some were disgusted at the sight of the blood I'd just poured him, others were busy checking him out, wondering what he'd look like naked and what it would feel like to be bitten by him. Someone was wondering how wild I had to be in the sack to be attracting the attentions of such a scary-looking vamp, and another had me dumb-founded in astonishment. Greg Aubert, the 'lucky' insurance salesman, was sitting with his wife Christy, by the door. He was actually thinking what a cute couple we made. I could've kissed him.

I cleaned up and did my handover with the still apologetic Holly, and grabbed my things from the office. Eric behaved himself while I was around the back, or at least I assume he did, since nobody got bitten, drained or laid out before I returned. I waved goodbye to Sam and exited the bar, Eric in tow.

We drove the short way to my house in my car, and I got ready in super-quick time, having prepared earlier. I gave myself a little pat on the back for my smart forward-thinking. I'd even pre-packed my little overnight bag with some essentials. I took my time with my make-up and hair, though. Eric tried to get me out of my new cream chiffon dress as soon as he saw me in it, but I was having no funny business. I wanted to have my date first. He declared that I was a picture of loveliness, and I felt better and more attractive than I had in months.

Eric had brought his Corvette, and on the way to Shreveport we talked about Pam's new obsession. He thought Dead Edd was just another in a long line of fads which would soon pass. I guess he'd seen a few in his time. He said Pam was once similarly smitten with Jon Bon Jovi, Doris Day, and Maurice Chevalier. Even though we were having fun chatting away, I could tell there was something on his mind, no doubt work-related. Eric was as busy as I had ever known him to be lately. I didn't ask. We both seemed to want to enjoy the break from the usual grind.

Pam came rushing up to me as soon as we entered Fangtasia.

"Sookie! You are just in time. Dead Edd, here! Are you excited?"

"I have no idea who this band is, Pam," I said, as we walked into the main bar area. The place was packed, and the security was tighter than usual, with big burly vamps and humans, and even what appeared to be a demon, keeping a close eye on the crowds. "Are they any good?"

"You don't even know who Dead Edd is? He is only _the_ hottest vamp around right now. Apart from me," she added, with a grin. I'd never seen Pam so upbeat. I'd never seen her hair so big either. She'd back-combed her pale blonde locks into a huge bush that reminded me of cotton candy.

"And me," Eric added.

Pam glared at him for a moment before turning back to me.

"I had to pull all kinds of strings to book them. But look at how busy we are." She gestured with her arm and looked at Eric. "I told you."

Eric didn't respond. He helped me remove my jacket, and bent to kiss my cheek.

"I need to make some calls, I won't be long. Pam, no crowd-surfing." He gestured towards the bar, and one of the human staff immediately came over to take my drink order. He wandered off around the back with my jacket, and the crowd parted to let him through, gawping at him the whole time.

Looking around the bar, I realized that I stuck out like a nun in a nudist colony. Everyone was wearing the obligatory black, with the occasional dash of color. Leather, PVC and crushed velvet appeared to be the materials of choice. Pam herself was wearing a short leather skirt and black net top which showed her bra, and fishnets. She always managed to pull an outfit off, no matter whether it was a pink twinset and slacks or something more extreme like this one. But I knew she couldn't wait to get out of her work attire and into something more comfortable.

"I feel a little, er, _bright_ ," I said, leaning into Pam. I twisted a lock of my perfectly waved hair around a finger, and re-adjusted the strap of my purse over my shoulder as I scanned the crowd again. Yep. _Definitely sticking out._ The waitress came back and handed me my gin and tonic.

Pam gave me the once over.

"You look very well," she said. "The pale shade of the dress really shows off your tan, but I assume you know that. I wouldn't worry about sticking out, nobody's likely to bother you, here. I would think you'd be used to being a little different. Did your breasts get bigger, or is it the bra?"

"Um-"

"Oh, shush," she said, gripping my arm as the lights dimmed.

"Ow. Pam, will you-"

"Here they are! Come on." She dragged me through the crowd toward the front of the stage, and everyone seemed more than happy to move when they realized it was Pam trying to get through. I stumbled after her, trying not to spill my drink.

"And now," a voice announced as we found a place to stand right at the front, "please give a warm, fangtastic Shreveport welcome to the one, the only, Dead Edd and the Dead Heads!"

Everyone cheered and clapped, and I got so carried away with the wave of excitement that I whooped for the fun of it. Someone to my right gave a particularly loud _'oof oof oof'_ , and I turned and looked up at the tall figure beside me.

"Clovache?"

"Sookie Stackhouse," the Britlingen responded.

I smiled at her, but the band started playing, so that put an end to the conversation.

Dead Edd was a punky-looking vamp with spiked bleached blond hair. He was bare-chested, and wore silver leather pants. He liked to scowl and show his fangs a lot. The Dead Heads were a rough, motley bunch of vampires, sporting a variety of extreme hair-dos, spiked collars, tattoos and the like. The drummer had an impressive pompadour that even Bubba would've been proud of. Edd himself was a charismatic front-man, and actually rather good-looking, if you liked that kind of thing, which a lot of people seemed to. Girls screamed as he sang and thrust his hips at the audience. He even cast a few lascivious glances in my direction. Pam and Clovache were both dancing and singing along. Even though it wasn't my usual preferred kind of music, the atmosphere was infectious, and I found myself dancing and clapping along with everyone else.

Nobody so much as bumped into me, with Pam and the Britlingen on either side of me, and someone even brought me a fresh drink.

At some point, maybe the fifth song in, someone threw their panties at the stage and this started a trend of various items of underwear flying over my head. Never one to be outdone, Pam hitched up her leather skirt and rolled down her fishnet hose.

"Pam! What're you doing?"

"People are throwing clothing."

After slipping her heels back on, she rolled the hosiery into a tight ball, and gave them a quick sniff before launching them at Edd's head. They hit him bang between the eyes. Being the professional he was, he never even flinched.

"Bingo," I heard Pam say. "Are you not going to throw something, Sookie?"

"No."

Clovache moved beside me, and I turned to see her launch the largest pair of support underwear I'd ever seen. I would never have imagined she'd need it, since I knew she was so strong and muscular. It was sort of light brown in color – nude, I suppose it would've been called, but nude things never look the color of nude, to me - and probably designed to cinch in her waist and stomach, as well as slim down her butt and thighs. I had no idea how she'd even managed to remove it, since her black bodysuit was still zipped up to the neck. She must have put some real force behind her throw, too, because it hit the drum kit and the high-hat got knocked over.

Pam gave her a high-five over my head.

After that, things got messier and more raucous, and I indicated to Pam that I was going to retreat farther back. She was having too much fun to care, and just nodded at me. It took me a while to barge my way through the crowd, as politely as possible, but I finally managed it. I spotted Eric sitting at the bar along with a couple of other hangers-back, and grinned as I stumbled forward and fell into his arms.

"Pam threw her tights!"

Eric smiled and shook his head.

"Whatever incites such an odd reaction?"

"Nobody ever threw their underwear at you?" I said, sipping on the last of my drink. It was warm and watery, and I pulled a face and placed the glass on the bar. A fresh one magically appeared. "Are you jealous?"

"No. But you can throw your underwear at me, if you want."

I pressed myself closer to him, leaning forward in between his parted thighs, and slid my arms around his neck. I gave him a long, lingering kiss. My spirits were high, and the gin had relaxed my inhibitions a little. I didn't care if any of the fang-bangers saw, or anyone else for that matter.

"Large burping drink," Clovache said beside me, and I turned around. "The brown one. No ice. My gratitude."

Someone poured her a Coke, and she paid for it before downing it in about five seconds.

I wondered where Batanya was, but I didn't ask. They were work colleagues, I supposed, and Clovache seemed very much off-duty. I wondered if she'd traveled from her own dimension especially for the show, or if she had an assignment around these parts. I guessed Eric hadn't hired her, since even he would've had trouble finding the cash to pay the Britlingen's extortionate fees for their security services.

"You a big fan of Dead Edd?" I asked her, shouting over the noise.

"I like the drummer," she said. "Dead Ted."

"Oh."

Then she was off again, stomping her way back through the crowd.

I watched the rest of the show from the back. I danced along with the music; I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun. At some point Pam got up on stage only to fling herself off again, and people in the crowd caught her. I turned to Eric to see his reaction, and I saw he was watching me, smiling, his face soft and open.

"Did you see Pam?" I asked. He reached his hand out to me and I took it, and he pulled me closer.

"No."

"She just jumped off the stage into the crowd."

I looked back and saw that people were passing her over their heads.

"Stage-diving," Eric said. "I told her no crowd-surfing."

Someone set her down when she reached the back. She didn't even stop to rest before she was pushing her way back to the front again.

"You enjoying the show?" I asked him.

"I'm enjoying watching you enjoy the show. You are far more entertaining than these idiots."

I leaned back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me.

"I want you," he whispered at my ear, making me shiver all over. He slid a finger beneath the strap of my dress and traced a path down my shoulder blade. I felt his other hand on my back, touching the zipper. I thought of it as a reconnaissance mission, so he could get me out of my clothes that bit more quickly when we were alone. I closed my eyes and smiled, as he kissed my neck.

"I cannot wait any longer," he said. "Have you seen enough? Shall we go home?"

I turned in his arms and nodded, giving his thigh a good, firm squeeze. He took my glass from me and put it down on the bar. We went around the back to his office to collect our things, before exiting through the rear door.

"You are happy," Eric said, as we walked to his car. He opened the door for me and I slid inside.

"Sure. I had a great time on my date."

"Date?" he said as he got behind the wheel. "We are married, you remember."

I rolled my eyes at him. _Married schmarried._

"You think Pam will be going home with Dead Edd tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Probably. Then she will get bored and the phase will be over."

"I wonder if Clovache will get lucky with the drummer," I mumbled, as I looked out the window.

As soon as we got to his house and Eric closed the door, his lips were on mine. We dropped our things on the floor, flung off our jackets, and kicked off our shoes, kissing frenziedly all the while. I decided to have some fun with him, making him work for it by squirming out of his embrace and running off, but of course he caught me almost immediately. Playing cat and mouse with a predator as quick as Eric was hardly sport. Getting caught was the best part, anyway.

Just as I'd gotten his belt buckle undone, his cell phone rang. Eric reluctantly pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and answered. I tried not to listen in, but I couldn't help but overhear. The gist of the conversation was that nobody was answering the phone at Fangtasia, and arrangements needed to be made for some visitors from another area the following night. I had a feeling that they were Victor's orders.

Eric paced unhappily from room to room as he tried to reach someone to do the work for him, but in the end, after apologizing to me and giving me a quick kiss, he retreated into his office to take care of the business himself.

I made some toast and grabbed some juice from the fridge, impressed that Eric, or at least someone, maybe Bobby, had actually purchased a few basic human groceries. I took my bag upstairs, got out one of my books, laid out on the bed and began to read. At some point I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I felt Eric behind me, kissing my shoulder, and my eyelids were flickering open.

"Was I asleep long?" I asked groggily. "Was I snoring?"

"No."

I felt him tug the zipper of my dress down, and he kissed my shoulder blades. I reached behind me and realized he was already naked.

"Shoot," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"I was planning on undressing you, or at least watching you get undressed. I missed it."

I felt him smile against my skin. He pressed his lips to the curve of my neck and kissed me there. The sensation sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want me to dress again?"

I turned over and my dress got bunched up, so I sat up and pulled it off over my head.

"Maybe later."

I laid back down beside him and we kissed, long and leisurely, taking our time, enjoying the moment. Eric's hair was still tied back, so I took the band out and shook it free through my fingers. It was all kinky from having been tightly braided, and the sight of it made me laugh.

"What is funny?" Eric asked.

"It looks like you crimped your hair. It looks pretty."

In response to me making fun of him, he rolled me on my back and reached his hand underneath me, unhooking my ivory lace bra single-handedly.

"How'd you do that?" I asked, genuinely impressed.

"It's one of my many talents," he answered, his lips trailing over my chest as he leaned over me, tossing the bra aside. He massaged my bare breasts in his hands as he kissed them, his crimped hair fanning out over my chest. Then he reached a hand down, and slid his fingers down the side of my underwear, tugging.

"Wait!"

Eric looked up at me, his eyebrows drawn together.

"What?"

"I need to fling my underwear at you. I feel bad that you never had anyone do that. You were a bit jealous of Dead Edd, right? All the underwear attention he was getting tonight?"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Yes, I was incredibly jealous that I never had Clovache the body-building Britlingen throw her immense, possibly bullet proof, underpants at my head."

"I knew you were," I giggled, as I rolled off the bed.

Eric sat up against the pillows, and pursed his lips, smiling impishly as he watched me trot to the end of the bed, bouncing and jiggling as I went. I stood there for a moment, wondering whether it was possible to do this in any way that might be even slightly sexy. Eric seemed to be enjoying the show, though. His fangs were suddenly out, and Mr. Happy was _very_ happy.

I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of my itty bitty lacy panties, and wiggled. Eric's mouth fell open and he clenched the sheets tightly in his fists. I took my time, teasing him, pulling down one side and then the other, turning around to give him a rear view. I started to really enjoy myself, and regretted not being more fully clothed so I could give him a real show. Maybe another time.

"Sookie..."

I turned to the side and bent over as I slowly wriggled my underwear down my legs, watching Eric the whole time. When they were at my feet, I picked them up, hooked a thumb inside, pulled them back, and aimed for his head. They fell short, landing on his chest. I needed more practice.

Eric didn't move, he just carried on staring at me, growling a little.

I knelt on the bed, in between his feet, and crawled up slowly, stroking his legs as I went. I felt like I wanted to growl too, but of course I didn't. That would just have been over the top. When I reached his thighs I knelt over him, my knees at either side of his waist, and leaned down to kiss him. I flung my underwear aside and pressed open-mouthed kisses to his chest. Eric's fingers threaded through my hair as I licked and sucked at one of his nipples, and then nibbled. I pinched at the other with my fingers, before sliding my hand down his body to touch him.

Eric groaned, and pressed down on the back of my head, and I bit him harder. His body tensed beneath me, and then in a flash he had me rolled onto my back. Suddenly, his lips were everywhere, and his hands were too. We rolled around the bed, kissing and groping each other. His fingers slid between my thighs, and I felt like I was going to explode from the pleasure of his touch. He alternated between probing inside me and teasing my most sensitive part, which was swollen in arousal and begging for more attention. He kissed me, his tongue driving me wild, intensifying the warm sensations flowing up through my body.

"Oh. Eric. Oh!" I couldn't seem to stop saying 'oh'. " _Oh._ "

"I love that sound," Eric whispered, his fingers working inside me.

"What sound?" I breathed.

"The sound of your pleasure. Your breaths. Your moans." He kissed me again, and I moaned into his mouth. "It has a most curious effect on me. You make me ache for you. I would do anything, my love."

"Oh. Now, Eric," I said, rolling onto my back. I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me. "I need you. Now."

I laid back, and Eric knelt between my legs, his butt on the bed so he was on a level with me. I rested my thighs on top of his, as he took me by the waist and pulled me closer. Then he took his penis in his hand, and pressed the head against my tight, sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing it against me, making me breathe even harder and eliciting more _'oh'_ s. Then he slid right inside.

His hands stroked my stomach and breasts as he wound his hips, thrusting in and out of me. My back arched as his fingers brushed against my pleasure center again, and I worked my own hips in time with his. We both began to moan more loudly, as the exquisite pleasure and tension began to build inside.

One of his hands was at my waist, and I grabbed onto it with both of mine, gripping him, and we began to move faster, harder.

And then, it happened. It seemed to come from out of nowhere. I orgasmed. I orgasmed like I'd never orgasmed before. I was back on the bike and I was leading the _Tour de France_. I was wearing the yellow jersey, and I was breaking through the tape with my hands held aloft in victory, punching the air in triumph. I might have screamed, there were certainly some loud, incoherent noises. Who knows what came out of my mouth, some of it might have been filthy. My whole body seemed to shudder and jerk from my head to my toes, as the sweet sensation flooded through me. It was an intense ride.

When I finally managed to open my eyes, I saw Eric looking down at me, his face a mixture of concern and excitement.

"You... Are you... all right?"

"I am very, very all right," I replied, my voice a breathy whisper. "I'm so all right I might just slide off the bed and lie in a puddle on the floor."

"So that was good for you?" he said, smiling proudly. "Better than it's been?"

"You knew that?" He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well, of course you knew. I just... had some issues that had to work themselves out."

"I knew it couldn't be my lovemaking, wife of mine."

"Don't call me your wife," I said, though I was too relaxed and happy to really be irked by the use of the term. "You know our so-called marriage is just strategy. To get back to your previous statement. _A-one_ lovemaking, Eric. The no-orgasm problem was in my head. Now I've self-corrected."

"You are bullshitting me, Sookie," he said. "But I'll show you some A-one lovemaking. Because I think you can come again."

Turned out, Eric was right, I could come again. In fact, I was coming like it was going out of fashion. I reveled in our lovemaking, feeling like I could go on and on, like I never wanted the night to end.

Finally, we laid curled up together, spooning. We snuggled beneath the tangled sheets.

"It will be dawn soon," Eric murmured against my temple. "The last thing I want to do is leave you. I would spend all day making love to you if I could."

I smiled and squeezed his fingers.

"Can I come and sleep downstairs with you?"

I was pretty exhausted, but I wanted to fall asleep with him there with me.

"Of course, if you want."

I watched as he stepped out of bed and began gathering the clothes he'd removed earlier before I'd woken from my nap. I propped myself up on an elbow against the pillows, and my eyes took in his beautiful naked form. The strong, broad shoulders, the huge biceps, the muscular chest and lean stomach, the slim hips. The long, athletic legs, the thighs. The butt. Oh, _the butt._ He was a walking, talking lesson in anatomical perfection, carved from fine marble. I sighed.

"Did you want me to dress again?" he said. He pulled on his jeans, and zipped up. "So that you can undress me?"

I chuckled tiredly.

"Sure. Why not."

He bent down to check himself out in the mirror over the vanity that Pam had picked out for my room in Eric's house. He ran a hand through his long, wild hair, shaking it out, and I admired the way it fell over his shoulders and down his back.

"Lookin' gorgeous, as always," I smiled.

Eric turned and smiled back.

"You like what you see?"

"How could I not? Hey, were all Vikings as hot as you, or are you really just some freak of nature?"

"No. I was the hottest Viking in history. There were songs written. I won awards."

"Oh really?" I said, unable to hold back my giggle. "Did you win the best Viking butt award?"

"Six years running."

"Were you the tallest?"

"In my village I was. I never came across many taller. Certainly none as handsome."

"I'll bet you were the cockiest as well."

"My 'cocky' was much admired, yes, and undoubtedly the most impressive I had ever personally caught sight of."

I snorted and shook my head at him.

"That's so lame."

Eric smirked at me, his face mischievous and playful. It seemed as though the both of us had found some extra satisfaction in my release that night. I hadn't even really considered how my little orgasm problem might have affected him, too. He looked at me for a moment, having his own minute of ogle time. I could see the desire building as his attention refocused on me. He bent to pick up his belt from the floor, and stepped towards me.

"Do you know how sexy you look, laid out naked like that on the completely trashed bed?" He knelt beside me, his knees parted wide on the mattress. He reached forward and cupped my face in his palm, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "Like a goddess."

I took the belt from his other hand, and sat up, kneeling in front of him.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, as I slid the belt through the first loop of his jeans.

"Well, I have a lot of work to catch up on, and some important meetings scheduled, but I could perhaps make some time, for you." He looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine before his gaze focused on my chest. "You could convince me to make some time."

I wiggled closer, pressing my breasts against his body as I slid the belt through another loop. I ran my palm up and down his spine, before slipping my other arm around his waist, to pull the belt through.

"I'll make it worth your while," I purred, looking up at him seductively. "Now I've got my mojo back, I feel like I need to catch up."

I slid the belt through the final loop and grabbed onto both ends, pulling him toward me. I ran my tongue over his hard abs, and slipped my hand down the back of his jeans to get myself a handful of that spectacular butt. I stretched up for a kiss, and I could feel Eric straining through his pants as our bodies pressed closer.

"It's very close to dawn," Eric said raggedly, as I tugged his jeans down over his hips. I stroked his hardness tenderly with my fingers, and bent my head down to kiss him, teasing him with my tongue.

Pleasuring Eric this way had gotten a lot easier, since I'd learned a few techniques and been able to relax and enjoy it. After I'd gotten him good and worked up, I sat up and leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck as I continued to stroke him with my hand. He brushed my hair back over my shoulder, and bunched it up in his fist. Then he slowly leaned forward, pressed his lips to my neck, gave a deep, low growl, and bit.

Even though I knew it was coming, it was still a shock. The sharp pain of it soon turned to pleasure. I could feel him sucking hard, greedily. He moaned against my warm skin, and I worked him harder and faster.

His fist closed tighter in my hair, and he threw his head back and roared as he came in my hand. He gave little grunts and thrust his hips, as I continued to milk him, my fingers now slick with his come.

"Sookie," he said, as he looked down at me. His fingers unclenched in my hair as his body relaxed, and he massaged my head. "Sookie," he repeated. He kissed at my neck where he'd bitten, softly and delicately at first, then he licked at my skin, healing the wounds. "My Sookie."

He kissed me on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked.

"Definitely," Eric growled.

I washed up in the bathroom across the hall, pulled on my silky nightdress, and went downstairs to join Eric in his cubby. I tapped in the code, and the door closed automatically behind me. Eric had switched on the lamp beside the bed, and the room felt warm and welcoming. He was already beneath the covers. Anyone would think he really was just going to sleep. It still seemed a world away from going to ground under some floorboards in a cold, uncomfortable hole. He looked up, his eyes half-open, and reached his hand out to me. I slid under the sheets with him.

"You are working tomorrow evening," Eric said quietly.

"Uh-huh."

"I've arranged a car to pick you up at 3:00."

"Thanks."

"You remember the codes?"

"Yep."

"I will try to get to your house by 1:30 tomorrow. If I can't make it until later, I'll call."

I snuggled up close to him, and he slid his arm under my neck. Eric's bicep made a hard and yet surprisingly comfortable pillow.

"Sweet dreams, lover," he mumbled, his words becoming more of a struggle. And then he was dead to the world. I could tell, because he went absolutely still and didn't react when I ran my palm over his shoulder and down his arm. I squeezed his hand, but he didn't squeeze back.

"I love you," I whispered, before I fell asleep. My sleep was deep, peaceful and uninterrupted.

I woke up smiling.


End file.
